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We hold each other

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OKAY AUTHOR’S NOTES YEY.  So, this is an AU, I built Draco’s story the way I wanted it, but everything else is canon, like he was a snarky little shit and the bickering happened, and there’s bad blood and stuff up until the end of 5th year. Also, I’m a sucker for any whump tropes, so expect it (but I also love fluff, so comfort is always given.) I love for Draco to have a tragic story, I love that he’s weak but smart and slightly soft but only with the people he’s really comfortable with. ALSO, WE LOVE BOOK HARRY BECAUSE HE’S AWKWARD AND SARCASTIC AND HONESTLY, SO MUCH MORE HUMAN THAN IN THE MOVIES. (shout out to the anonymous author, she did a good job on that).

Song Chapter: Easy - Troye Sivan


The first time Draco Malfoy was scared of his father he was 5 years old and broke a glass at dinner, back then he didn't understand the feeling he felt, but now he can't remember a lot of his childhood without feeling nauseous. Mother tried to reassure him, telling him it was okay, that it was an accident. On the other hand, father just looked at him with disappointment and made him clean the mess he made, he still has small scars on his hands to remind him of that day.

After that incident, Draco quickly learned to not make big messes, because it was improper, and if he was stupid enough to make one he always made sure to solve it himself as quickly as possible fearing the consequences. But it wasn't until he was 8 years old that he felt truly terrified of his father.

One day he was foolish enough to enter his father’s studio, one of the many places he wasn’t allowed to be in, but it had been a week since he saw a pretty necklace his father brought home, he dreamed about how shiny it was and how pretty the emeralds reflect the light. He loved shiny things because it reminded him of the stars, and the sweet voice of his mother telling him about constellations, he just wanted to get a good look at it, maybe put it close to the window so he could see it reflect the light again, just for a little bit, he was going to be so quick. But Draco Malfoy learned at shortage that luck was never on his side, nothing would ever turn out the way he wanted, but rather the way it was planned for him.

Such a pretty yet deadly thing was that necklace, he can still sometimes feel his bones breaking, or his head feeling like it was about to explode, so much pressure in it he could swear he tasted blood on his mouth. He doesn’t remember much more than that, his mother only told him that he had an awful fever but his father smirked and said that maybe this time he would learn to not touch what wasn’t his.

And so Draco decided that everything he touched must be his, or else it would hurt him. Maybe that’s why he never touched his father because he wasn’t his and it hurt, but later he also learned that his father didn’t need to touch him for it to hurt, sometimes he still longs for the physical pain. He also learned that his mother, even though it was his, the older he got the less physical contact his mother provided because it was improper for a pureblood to be hugging his mother at the age of 10, only weak boys did so and no Malfoy would be cataloged as a  “weak”.

And then his Hogwarts letter came, maybe that was one of the happiest days of his life, he still dreams about the small smile on his father’s face proud that his heir was actually a wizard and not a useless squib. Hogwarts became the only place where Draco could be loud and not so cautious like he was at home, but he had to ruin it, didn’t he? He wasn’t like his mom, who could make friends with everyone and be charismatic, no; he had to be like his father who only knew how to make allies out of fear and manipulation. And Draco hated it, he always knew he hated it so much, and what he hated more is that no matter how much he loathes his father, he still did everything for him to be proud.

The more he learned about the world, the less sure he felt about his knowledge, all the blood purity stuff that was craved inside his brain sounded wrong and it made him feel confused, because if all muggles were dumb then why Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age? And if all blood-traitors were so bad then why Ron Weasley had so many friends? And if half-bloods were a disgrace, why Harry Potter became the savior of their world? And even though he grew up with so many doubts he never dared to do anything about it, until the Quidditch cup came just before his 4rth year, where the confirmation he needed about his father being a bad person finally came. That was the third time he had been completely terrified of his dad, seeing him with that mask that made it look as if his real face was the actual mask and not the silver one. He remembers seeing the golden trio and all the Weasley’s and all the chaos and in his own snarky way tried to tell Harry that he needed to get the fuck out of there, and take his friends with him. And it came out so wrong, but he didn’t care about what anyone thought about him anymore, he just wanted out of this life.

But yet again, life reminded Draco that he wasn’t worthy of what he wanted, that he must be the carrier of all the karma his family (and himself) have had to come all these years. He stopped being so loud unless important people were watching, like Umbridge in his fifth year. He started to be a hell lot more cautious about his actions, about his words, about his appearance, about his smiles, about his tears, so when his father was thrown to Azkaban he finally felt as if he could breathe, and he loathed himself for it because Lucius was his father and all he ever did was to make him a better person… right? Right?!?

Then why was he summoned here? Why did all the weight of his family suddenly settle on his shoulders? Why must he do this for a master he never intended to serve? Why if he hadn’t touched the Dark Lord it suddenly became his? He didn’t want this, please someone make it stop… but of course no one did, no one dared to say anything about his marred forearm, not even his mother. He quickly learned that his father wasn’t the scariest thing in the world like he had thought all this time, no, that place was quickly replaced by his aunt and the Dark Lord, and all the others, but worst of all, by his mother. Because it scared him to death how the only person he ever loved and loved him back, turned their back at him while he begged not to be chosen for this.

Sadly, Draco Malfoy still craved approval, he craved to feel useful, and even if he only got praises when he did horrible things he could ignore it because he wanted it so bad, and if to be worthy again of those words also meant taking the Dark mark then so be it.

Gladly, Draco Malfoy was smart, so smart and good at reading situations, years of surviving out of instinct had thought him that there was always another way to make things work, maybe not the way he wanted it but also to avoid the worst-case scenario. So he decided to appeal his case and asked for a task for him to feel “worthy enough” of such privilege as taking the mark meant. Luckily, the Dark Lord accepted, surprised by this new-found loyalty in the youngest Malfoy, but of course, good things don’t happen to him, because fixing a cabinet was an easy thing, killing the headmaster (one of the most powerful wizards in the whole world and history) that even his oh-so-called-master feared, well, that was a death wish.

And at this point, Draco Malfoy feared life way more than he feared death, if it wasn’t because of the stupid love he felt for his mother he would throw himself out of the window the second he was left alone, and that was almost never. Between Oclumensy lessons with Bellatrix, long study hours about curses and poisons with his mother, and what Greyback liked to call “stress relief sessions” that left him bloodied and dirty.

The 1rst of September came faster than he wished, lately, his sleeping schedule had been worse than usual, barely sleeping more than 2 or 3 hours per night, and even then, his appetite was barely there, and the constant reminder of his inevitable failure creeping in the back of his mind. He really wasn’t joking when he told Pansy that if he had to pass another year in this hell he would throw himself out of the Astronomy Tower. But of course, nothing ever happens the way he plans it, because once again, Harry fucking Potter was a step behind him, so close to catching him yet not managing it, oh how much Draco wished for him to be caught, maybe death in the hands of the savior or his order would be more merciful than life in the hands of his family and their master. But in the end, villains always had the worst end possible and the quicker Draco gets that in his head, the better.

Maybe Harry Potter should have realized that he was different he was when he didn’t have a room for himself as his cousin did, or the way his parent's death was a topic that had to be avoided at all costs, or how his other classmates had loving families and favorite foods and he didn’t, or the way his hair grew from night to morning no matter what his aunt did to it.

But it wasn’t until Dudley’s birthday when he actually realized that maybe, he was different in a completely different way. Claiming that he could speak to snakes and make glass disappear could put you in a mental hospital so fast, so maybe that’s why Harry didn’t say a word about it. Then the letters arrived and the strange mood around the house made him think that it could be related to it, why would anyone send letters to him? He was an orphan who was lucky enough to have a place to live, and more importantly, why now? What was so special about him this year that made his uncle’s house nearly overflow with letters? And yeah well, being a wizard wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but learning about the truth of his parent's death helped him explain the dreams he had about a green flash of light and a high, cold, laugh. It never made sense for his parents to be laughing like that in case that memory was from the car crash, but now it all makes sense, and it all tied up to his scar.

The third time Harry realized that maybe he wasn’t like the others was when he magically rode a fucking broom, later he learned that it wasn’t his first time and that Sirius actually bought him a toy broom when he was one, so Hermione wasn’t lying about talent being practically on his blood. And then, a year later he was reminded, again, that he was different because apparently he can actually talk to snakes, and yeah, let’s not forget the fact that he’s been trying to get murdered every fucking second of his existence.

But sometimes being different wasn’t so bad, because thanks to it he had a lot of friends in this new world that liked him for who he was, and even if he had fans and anti-fans, it was kind of fun to be a celebrity. And being different also provided him his worst nightmare, that even though now he swore he hated Draco Malfoy he sometimes fantasizes about telling his children about his archenemy and laugh about it.

And being different got him a place where he felt he belong, a family of all red-heads that were kind and funny and loud, and that never, not for a moment, let Harry felt out of place, he got fed and hugged and every year he received a sweater or a scarf that was made just for him, that made the final statement that that was now his family. And then there were his 2 best friends, Ron and Hermione, both making him feel that as long as they were together he would be alright.

And sometimes, being different was awkward, because it turned out that a lot of his nerves on his first year playing Quidditch could have been blamed on a stupid crush he had on Oliver Wood, and then there was Cho Chang, who he crushed as bad as he did with Cedric Diggory, maybe If he wasn’t who he was and they weren’t in the middle of chaos maybe Harry would’ve indulged into his desires and tried to pursue more with either of them. Thankfully, he couldn’t because that kiss with Cho one year later was one of the most disastrous things he’s ever experienced and he was the Boy who lived so… And let’s not forget the awkward crush he had on Ginny for a whole summer, that was kind of reciprocated but in the end felt weird and disgustingly close to incest so he forgot about it, and so did Ginny because she started to date Dean Thomas.

It wasn’t until the death of Sirius Black that he wished he wasn’t different, he for once wanted out of this, suddenly all the good things disappeared and only the trauma and hurt got left behind. He wanted so bad to be back to normal, to have to deal with muggle bullies and not a fucking sociopath trying to kill him, he wanted to be screamed at for not doing his chores not about not being able to save everyone, he wanted to be normal, he just wanted it all to end.

But Harry Potter was not a coward, he sadly had a lot of stupid Gryffindor courage and took the responsibility that was way too big for a soon to be 16 years old. So when he overheard the conversation Malfoy had on the train with his friends the 1st of September of his 6th year, he, for a moment felt 12 again. For a second Harry felt at ease; because Draco Malfoy was easy, he was so easy because Harry's anger never scared the other, on the contrary, he always fought back never for a second caring whether he was the savior of the wizarding world or not. Draco Malfoy was a constant, was his other half in the whole Yin and Yang situation they had going on since that afternoon at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions where they had met 6 years ago.

So maybe this year would be his calm before the inevitable storm like his third year was. Please let this year be that, it was all Harry wished for, but oh well, heroes always had tragic stories and Harry Potter wasn’t going to be the exception to the rule.

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Hey! Just quick author's note, beware me being too lazy to think about Slughorn’s dialogues and using the movie ones instead lol. Thanks for reading and please comment or I’ll cry.


“I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt Draco, but I never thought I would live to see you in this state,” Pansy tried to joke, but the concern was evident in her voice, “like, seriously, when was the last time you brushed your hair?”

In other times, Draco would be offended by the comment and would try to fix up his appearance as quickly as possible while making a rude remark about her looks as well, but honestly, Draco was too tired of appearances and couldn’t care less about his hair, he was busier trying to find a way to fix the stupid cabinet, he had been trying for 2 weeks already and he was nowhere near to fixing it, Borgin’s instructions only helped so much. And let’s not forget that if he wanted to keep the level of excellence at school (the kind that gives you Outstanding and Exceeds expectations level in your O.W.L’s) he needed to study harder than before.

“I don’t know, lately I’ve been having trouble with it, maybe I’ll shave it off,” he answered instead, why couldn’t they leave him alone? It was just hair.

“Draco Malfoy bald? Now that’s something I want to see,” he heard Blaise laugh, which definitely didn’t help his, already, sour mood.

“Just fuck off already, we’ve been dying to see the day you fix your stupid crooked nose, and yet, here we are,” and with that, he took his stuff and left the common room.

Draco never learned how to make friends, well not properly; he was an only child (maybe if he had a sibling a lot of things would’ve been different) and never learned how to share or how to not be alone. And don't get him wrong, Draco wasn't complaining about his childhood, he had all the toys he wanted and sometimes he could manage to make a hose-elf (almost always Dobby) to play with him. He wonder what happened to him, last he heard Harry set him free (and he was glad because out of their servants he was one of the most poorly treated, or at least he heard Granger said that once).

The blond sighed, there was a lot of things he needs to do, he had managed to steal a bit of Polyjuice potion a week ago, as he needed Crabbe and Goyle to stay outside the Room of Requirement for him to be able to get out safely, but it was quickly running out and if he started to borrow too much then Slughorn would definitely notice. He needed to brew some, and sadly the best place to do so was in the second-floor girl’s bathroom, no one liked that place because of Moaning Myrtle, and don’t get Draco wrong, he didn’t want to be there more than necessary but in order for her to not rat him out he needed to be polite, which bring us back to the beginning, Draco Malfoy never learned how to make friends.

“I know that you’re supposed to be the chosen one and whatnot, but why can’t you just let this go, Harry? We have more important things to do than follow this vague story Malfoy could’ve easily made up to brag with his friends,” Ron tried to reason with the black-haired boy for, what felt like, millionth time that week.

“Because if he has a mission then that little encounter at Borgin and Burkes would make more sense, don’t you agree?”

“Well yeah mate, but let’s be honest, why would Voldemort want the ferret? I mean, aside from being a Malfoy there’s nothing special about him,”

“I don’t know! But it all feels a little bit odd, with his father in Azkaban and his crazy family on the run I wouldn’t be surprised if he was as crazy as his aunt,” Harry sighed, yeah okay, maybe it was a long shot but his gut tended to be right most of the time in stuff like this.

“Okay, I know how stubborn you are, but let’s not push our luck, if something weird happens I promise we’ll take Malfoy seriously,” promised the ginger boy and even though it didn’t felt like enough Harry had to agree with him, with all the events that had happened since Sirius death he had been a little bit too paranoid and maybe, just maybe, he was seeing things where there was nothing to see.

They finally arrive at the new potions classroom, Slughorn refused to be at the dungeons like Snape, if it wasn’t because of Dumbledore’s mission he would’ve never taken this stupid class, hell he didn’t even buy the book because he was sure Snape wasn’t going to allow him to take the class due his ‘Exceed Expectations’ at his OWL’s. Yet here he was, at this stupid class, with no book and not the slightest idea of what he was supposed to be doing.

“Attention to detail in the preparation is the prerequisite of all plans. Harry, my boy, I've been beginning to worry. You brought someone with us, I see.” Spoke Slughorn once he noticed the two boys at the door.

“Ron Weasley, sir. But I'm dead awful at Potions. A menace, actually so. I'm probably just gonna-“ but Harry quickly took the hem of his robe to prevent the boy to run away and leave him alone at the same time that the professor spoke again.

“Nonsense, we'll sort you out. Any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine. Get your books out,”

“I'm sorry, sir, I haven't actually got my book yet, and nor is Ron,” Harry answered awkwardly bringing his hand at the back of his neck.

“Not to worry, get what you want from the cupboard. Now as I was saying, I prepared some concoctions this morning. Any ideas what these might be?,” he continued as the two friends entered the classroom, there were only two books left and of course, Ron ended up with the most decent one.

Whatever, it’s not like a book is going to make him better at potions, if Snape with his fear-induced type of teaching or Hermione’s detailed lessons couldn’t then nothing could at this point.

“Now Amortentia doesn't create actual love. That would be impossible, but it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession. And for that reason, it is probably the most dangerous potion in this room,” explained the old man, this was going to be a long-ass class.

“Sir, you haven't told us what's in that one,” a Slytherin girl asked.

“Oh yes. What you see before you, ladies and gentlemen is a curious little potion, known as Felix Felicis. But it is more commonly known referred to as-”

“Liquid luck,” Hermione interrupted, oh he sure didn’t miss how she loved to interrupt everyone in order to prove she was smart, and quite a bad habit she had there.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Liquid luck. Desperately tricky to make, disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip and you'll find that all of your endeavors succeed. At least until the effects wear off. So this is what I offer each of you today. One tiny vial of liquid luck to the student who in the hour that remains, manages to brew an acceptable Draught of Living Dead. Recipes for which can be found on page 10 of your books. Issue one doubt, however. Only one set of student manage to brew a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize. Nevertheless, good luck to you all. Let the brewing commence.”

And so here he was, in front of his cauldron with no idea where to start, that was until he opened the book and saw notes all over the place written in terrible handwriting (not that he could say that he was better, but he could at least brag about it being more legible thank this one), deciding that this notes may help him to make something more acceptable than whatever he would’ve managed without them he started to follow those instructions instead.

One hour later and a small vial of Felix Felicis in his hands later made Harry think that maybe this book would be a good way to gain Slughorn's trust.

Malfoy on the other hand struggled the whole class, the stupid smell of Amortentia still lingering in the room made his head hurt, the sweet smell of something he couldn’t figure out was driving him insane and his trembling fingers made the task of cutting almost impossible. Pansy must’ve noticed his increasing stress because without saying a word she exchanged his mediocre chopped anemone-like growth on the back of Murtlap’s pieces with hers.

In the end, it was Potter who won the stupid dare with his perfect calming draught, and maybe he took a small vial of that without anyone noticing it, just maybe. But you couldn’t blame the boy, his own potion was okay at best and if Slughorn swore one drop would kill them all then it meant that it was good, right? And it’s not like Malfoy planned to kill someone with it, he just wanted to have it in case he needs it.

“Who would’ve thought that Harry Potter was better at potions than the mud-blood,” said Pansy once they were out of the classroom, “if I remember correctly he used to be absolutely rubbish at potions,”

“Maybe Granger did the whole thing and he just took credit,” suggested Crabbe but Pansy shook his head

“No, I saw her struggling with it the whole hour like the rest of us, maybe Harry just hid his talent in order to annoy Snape,” she joked and maybe in another time Draco would’ve laughed at it, but lately his relationship with the ex-potions professor was on thin ice, no longer trusting him.

“Well, I’m going to go to the quidditch pitch, I’m going to try out for chaser this year, you coming?” asked Blaise, the incident of that morning long forgotten, but Draco shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m going to play Quidditch this year, I have a lot on my plate, and honestly doesn’t feel as thrilling as before,” half-lied the blond.

Because Quidditch has been a constant in Draco’s life since he can remember, and he was good at it, only Potter managing to beat him, which was a constant reason of punishments from his father the prior years. But it wasn’t his fault, he really tried to beat him, he even stopped eating so many sweets in hope that if he lost weight he would be faster, but that only ended in hospital visits due to faint spells, not that he ever told anyone about what he was doing.

Draco never had a big appetite, he likes to think that he’s like his mother in this aspect, yes, he enjoys food but never in big portions, because it’s improper and show’s low class, “only poor people eat a lo Draco, it shows that they fear they run out of food, we don’t need to worry about that and besides, no one likes fat boys” his father told him when he turned 13, and after that, he refused for his mother to keep sending him chocolates every 3 days, only allowing it once a month and even then he gave most of them to Crabbe and Goyle.

“Really? Harper is going to be over the moon with this, that kid had been trying to take your spot since forever,” Blaise said before leaving, and it was true, maybe in another life Draco would never let this happen, but lately flying only made him feel sick and nauseous, and besides he had more important things to do.

A couple of minutes later, Pansy left as well claiming that she and Daphne had important business to attend to, and Draco was alone, again. He wondered if Moaning Myrtle ever felt alone, if she ever missed being alive or if she had anyone to talk to.

A couple of weeks later he learned that Elizabeth (that was her name) always felt alone and that being dead didn’t make a difference in her life, she always felt alone and people were mean to her, just like now. Maybe Draco never learned how to make friends, but it was never too late to learn, after all, if he messed up he could just stop going to that bathroom. 

In the end, she ended up being nicer than he anticipated, she even told him about how Harry Potter brewed the same potion almost 4 years ago, and she was kind enough to keep an eye on it when he couldn’t. He also learned that she decided to come back as a ghost in order to haunt student Olive Hornby in revenge for her bullying, and he laughed at that with her because he would do the same. Sadly her haunting plans went too far and she ended up being obliged to remain at the castle.

“Well, if I get killed because of this stupid mission I promise to come back as a ghost so you don’t have to be lonely.” Because Draco never learned how to make friends, but he knew what it felt to be alone and no one deserved that, not even ghosts.

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I'M BACK! (so is my depression episode) so I'll be posting a lot, I have inspo, I finally know what to make out of this story and I'm on holiday period sooooo, let's do this. Thank you so much if you've waited this long for me, I really appreciate it, and if not please stay and bear with me, I'll try to make it worthy. Enjoy <3


You can’t judge him, or at least that’s what Draco kept repeating in his head while studying the coin he had managed to steal last year from a girl in the Dumbledore’s Army. He knew this whole plan was just a pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable, but maybe his luck could change and this could actually work.

Who was he kidding? This was a stupid plan, but at least he had managed to make Protean charm to work, he just needed to go to Hogsmeade, enter the Three Broomsticks, and manage to take Madam Rosmerta to a private place to cast an Imperius curse and then order her to help him with his murder attempts. Draco sighs, no matter how many times he repeats the plan it still sounds so stupid and so fucking reckless.

His head was killing him.

He bought that pretty opal necklace that has been on sale at Borgin and Burkes, the idea of having something so cursed made him sick, but sometimes he wondered if that curse would feel the same as the one he had experienced back then when he was 8, and at night when his thoughts became louder he wondered if that would kill him.

“You should really get more sunlight, you’re almost as pale-ish grey as me and I’m a ghost,” joked Myrtle as Draco finished cleaning up his improvised workplace.

“I’m practicing for my inevitable death, I won’t come back as a ghost if I’m not completely sure if I can pull it off Liz,” the girl just smiled, it’s sad to think about how her standards are so low that the fact that Draco calls her by her name and not by that stupid nickname makes her feel more alive than never before.

“You’re so dramatic, are you going to come back later? We should totally take a shower at the prefect’s room,”

“In your dreams,” he sneers while casting a quick tempus, “I need to go before the others leave without me, but I promise to be here tomorrow at lunch, or maybe dinner if I don’t finish my homework early,” says the blond and offer her a small smile before leaving the depressing bathroom.

His body feels too light for it to be good.

Suspiciously enough, he didn’t have any problems executing his plan, Hogsmeade wasn’t too busy since it was too cold to be outside, now he just had to wait. Waiting was always the worst part because in between the events he received those stupid letters reminding him about his other mission, Draco used to think he was brilliant, now he just wonders if this was Granger’s mission Dumbledore would’ve been already dead. Fixing the cabinet wasn’t hard, he had managed to make it work, not the way he needed it to, but at least it worked.

“Where have you been? I wanted you to help me with my potions essay, you spend a lot of time Merlin knows where and I’m pretty sure you haven’t been at dinner, or any meal for that matter, this week,” Pansy complains the second he enters the Slytherin common room. “What’s going on? If those two idiots can know, so can I,” Draco sighs.

It’s not that Crabbe and Goyle knew about any of his plans, they just weren’t smart enough to ask the right questions, and they were dumb enough to drink whichever potion he gives them in exchange for sweets or homework help.

How can he possibly feel like his skull is about to explode yet still feel light as a feather?

 “There’s nothing going on Pansy, not anything that your or anyone need to know anyways, now if that’s all you need I have more important matters to attend to,” Draco replied with his best attempt of being his confident self, he was starting to hate how his voice tremble every time he needed to talk big sentences or the way that annoying stutter he got rid of when he was 5 came back every time his anxiety got worse.

Yeah, sure, better things to do such as what? Hope Madame Rosmerta delivered the poisoned mead like she was supposed to? Decide if he should use the necklace next Hogsmeade trip just in case the mead took too long to work or wasn’t delivered? Maybe the better thing to do was sit on the floor of a dirty bathroom chatting with a ghost because hey, at least if something goes wrong they can’t kill her cause she’s already fucking dead.

Was that ringing in his ears there before? Why was it so loud?

His panic was getting to a point where breathing normally was no longer possible, what were those exercises he heard Granger tell Harry one time? Was he supposed to hold his breath for how long? Why would he do that anyway, it already felt as if no air was getting to his lungs, was he dying? No, he can’t be that lucky, it really feels like it though.

He crashes onto something hard, was it a wall? No, walls don’t move… or do they? If stairs do why can’t walls move? Oh, Merlin, the wall is talking, oh no, it’s someone, was he being rude? Well yeah, of course, he was being rude, not that he has the energy to care about that but maybe it should be good to at least scuff or something so he can keep walking. Did his face move just now? It was hard to tell, he’s going be sick, and he’s going to choke and die, what an unpleasant way to die.

“Are you okay?” someone asked

I don’t think I am

“Please help me”

The floor has never felt so soft before.


Okay, out of all the weird thing that has happened to Harry just this week alone, Draco fainting in front of his gotta be the weirder one, and to be fair Harry had every right to start panicking in the middle of the hallway, this situation felt a bit too similar to when he was blamed for attacking students back in the second year, and even though there was no basilisk (or so he hoped so) right now a lot of people would definitely create rumors about a duel between him and Malfoy, so he better do something and do it quickly, like take him to the infirmary for example.

But yeah, Harry wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed so he just prayed that no one saw him dragging Malfoy into an empty classroom, because damn this scenario could not get worse, or so he thought. I mean, he would panic as well if he woke up with someone’s face so close to his, in Harry’s defense he just wanted to check if he was breathing or if Malfoy had a pulse.

For the first time in the many years he had known the Slytherin boy, he had no idea what to make out of this situation. Sure, a lot of people ask for help when they're about to faint, and a lot of people faint, but not everyone has that broken tone in their voices when asking for help, and blame his Gryffindor heart o his savior complex (as Hermione likes to call it), but if someone asks for help, even if it's Draco Malfoy, he will try and fucking help. And right now the best thing he can do to help is to try and feel Malfoy's pulse, because if he didn't have one then the one who would need help was gonna be Harry.

And well, Harry would expect the blond to lash out the moment he opened his eyes and realized that he had a face so close to his (and to be fair, he wouldn't blame him), what Harry didn't expect what the pitiful whimper coming out of the skinnier boy. And for a second Harry wasn't 16 but 5 years old, but a second it was him who whimpered because it was all he could do to stop Dudley and his friends, and of course, that second managed to break down the whole idea he had of Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, it's okay, you're okay," Harry tried to hush the other boy because Harry might not be the smartest person on Earth, but he at least knew what he would've liked back then when it was him asking for help.

"Please make it stop,"  it's almost as if every word he spoke hurt the blond boy, and out of all the weird things that had happened to Harry this week, feeling sympathy for his enemy might be the weirdest one of all.

Chapter Text

OKAY SOOO, Friendly reminder that this ain’t gonna follow the canon (well, book-wise because is where I’m basing all my events) so I’m going to mess with it so it fits the narrative I’m trying to go for (which is why the whole necklace thing and the sectumsempra scene is going to happen so close, but don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about Ron being poisoned, just wait for me and my attempts of story-telling lol) Also I know these first chapters have little dialogue into it, honestly, in other stories, I try to do more of it but I haven’t gotten to the part of the plot where dialogue is really relevant and I hate when dialogue is just used for filler purposes.


When Draco was 12 years old he learned that, sometimes, if he pretended something never happened with all his heart then it magically disappeared. Nowadays he’s starting to realize that that might not be the case, that now that he thinks about what used to disappear it was the mistakes he made, those mistakes that put the Malfoy in bad spotlight, maybe that’s why his father dealt with them… never before he tries to put 2 with 2 together, but now, as the cold floor finishes to chill his bones he realizes that at the same time his father dealt with his mistakes in the public eye he dealt with him behind closed doors.

Huh, maybe that’s why he started to pretend that some things never happened with all his heart, because indeed they disappeared, maybe his mother healing spells made it seem like it was okay but now, as his fingers tremble to a point he wonders if something it’s wrong with him aside from the possible hypothermia he’s about to get in this bathroom.

Sadly for 16-year-old Draco, no matter how hard he pretended something didn’t happen, no one was going to make things disappear, not this time, not when it involved the chosen one, not when it involved making Draco happy.

“I thought I heard you crying again, are you trying to steal my title?” the voice of a girl announces her entrance, Draco almost laughs at it

“Well, now that I know that I can pull off looking like a ghost I should start thinking about what am I going to do to annoy the heck out of everyone,” a faint smile on his lips, sometimes Draco wondered if he’ll ever feel alive again.

“Sometimes it’s hard to know if you’re joking or not,” Myrtle says, for a ghost that was forced to stay at Hogwarts after her disastrous attempts of revenge she seems pretty happy sometimes.

“What can I say, my family is not known for their sense of humor,” and with that Draco decides to get up the floor, after all losing a limb from the cold at 5 am is never on his plans.

“Why don’t you ever tell me about that mission of yours? It’s not like I can do something to prevent you from doing it,” she complains, and okay, Draco really liked this weird friendship with her but sometimes it got the best of him.

“Because I’ll have to kill you,” he answers deadpan and then laughs a bit, “see you later, Liz”


No, because if Harry had his suspicions at the beginning of the year now he just needed to know exactly what was going on to finally put an end to this, and maybe after that the rest of his 6th year will be normal.


Now, Harry should be happy about today being Saturday, he definitely could use a break in Hogsmeade with a butterbeer and no worries about this exam or that homework. But what Harry could also make use of, was a good nap, because no matter how much he’d tried to convince himself that that encounter with Malfoy a week ago was probably an act he can’t help but wonder if it really was.

Because you can’t imitate that kind of terror, not without having lived through it, and the way Malfoy put on a mask so quickly when he realized who had helped him made Harry feel uneasy till this day. But then again, Harry had enough problems to add another one, maybe if it was any other person he would prove once again he had a savior complex, but not everyone was worth all the struggles that that came with.


And okay, maybe his mind would be more at ease if Harry had actually seen Malfoy, at all, outside of classes, because his absence and the lack of appearance at the map only gave Harry more reasons to be suspicious of him. And no, he wasn’t worried, the prat had his friends to do that, he was just concerned about the bigger picture, because the war was inevitable and if Malfoy knew anything, even the stupidest thing, maybe it would be worth all the struggles that came with proving he had a savior complex (even if Harry hadn’t intended it).


“What’s with that face mate? You have the same look as you have at apparition lessons,” Ron teased him and Harry smiled. Malfoy would not fuck over his one free day with his two best friends, not if Harry had a say in it.


When Draco was 14 his wish of being someone, or rather something, else became true. And no matter how much he pretended to be angry, disgusted or anything to describe how much he should’ve been against it, he wasn’t.

In that minute of being a ferret, he felt more freedom than he ever had before, and sometimes he wonders what would it be to be one forever, eating whatever he found and maybe getting pet by a couple of people. Then he remembers his luck and he stops wondering, because he knows that if he really was a ferret he wouldn’t survive a day and he would get eaten by a wolf or something… not that that idea bothered him to be honest, but then again, Draco Malfoy was never honest.

Well, that wasn’t true, Draco tried, to be honest, most of the time, just not out loud or with the right people, because even though it made Draco cringe, that cry for help was the most honest thing he had said since this past summer when he felt his body about to give out after what his lovely aunt liked to call training.

On the other hand, just maybe, that kind of training would’ve helped him avoid detention today with McGonagall due to his foolishness, never ever before he had forgotten about turning in an assignment, less 3 of them. He hated how his body could almost recreate the way his father’s cane felt against his skin, but at times like this he couldn’t help to wonder that if his father wasn’t in Azkaban Draco wouldn’t be this big of a mess he was today, he was supposed to be at Hogsmeade putting in action the cursed necklace plan, not here at detention hoping that Crabbe and Goyle would do an okay job at it.

He knocked on the door, it was the polite thing to do, as before opening it he couldn’t help to wonder that if he felt alive, just for a second, his plans would work the way he planned them.


At this point Harry wondered if there was a higher power laughing at him while messing with his already fucked up life, because if someone getting cursed out of nowhere in the middle of the streets just as he was passing by wasn’t an indication that his life was just a terrible joke being told by someone without a fucking nose, then it might be finally time for him to give up at his attempts of being a normal teenager because clearly, that wasn´t going to happen.

And you know what? Fuck it, because he was honestly getting tired from this whole situation where people seems to know more about his past, present and even future than him, and maybe if someone listened to him when he tried and warn someone about something (like, I don’t know, Draco Malfoy plotting something) then maybe shit like this could be prevented.

But no, of course, life was not easy, because if it was then what was the point of him existing, he just wanted one day, just one where he could feel normal and forget about the fact that everyone expected something from him, either saving the fucking magic world or die trying.


At least it wasn’t him at the infirmary this time, is the only thought that brought any type of comfort to Harry while leaving that side of the castle. How hard was it to find someone who view him as his own person and not a part of something bigger?

Well, he was being unfair thinking that, sure his friends must see him as a person before a savior, but the fact that being the chosen one came second in their categories where to fit him made Harry feel the kind of uneasiness that nobody liked. And if he needed another proof about something greater than him controlling his destiny then the fact that a tabby cat happen to be passing beside him running after a mouse made him feel a warm sensation in his chest.

Mcgonagall always listened.


Except for this time, because apparently the stupid git was at detention with her the whole time this incident happened, and Harry almost scoffed at it almost if he actually had any other explanation as in how Draco could’ve been in two places at the same time, but damn him and his lack of intellect with this kind of things, Hermione would’ve already come with, at least, 5 theories.

But it’s okay because contrary to popular belief Harry was incredibly patient so 2 days after the incident when Katie Bell was discharged he asked her about it.

“Honestly my memories are really blurry, I remember going to the bathroom and someone asked me to bring this to Professor Dumbledore, and the next thing I remember is waking up at the infirmary with Professor Snape performing the final counterspells to stop the spreading of the curse,” oh Merling, the amount of galleons Harry would pay just to see Malfoy’s face when he was talking with her because it was at that moment where Harry knew that the git had figured out something he shouldn’t have.

And for the first time in the day Harry smiles instead of sighing, this should be good.


It's really funny how a few hours ago he was sure he’ll never feel this way again, yet now, in this precise moment with Harry Potter pointing his wand at him, Draco doesn’t have to wonder if he’ll ever feel alive again, because he does, sadly his wish to die was stronger, so he did what he’s best at.

Fuck it up.


Chapter Text

I had the worst writing block ever, but I'm back for good, I already have one extra chapter written so expect that later this week. I'm so sorry for making you wait and thank you so much if you're still reading. Love y'all! <3


This is it, this is how his mother dies. Because he doesn’t believe, not for a second, that Severus was actually on his side. Sure, his teacher was smart and cautious, but in the end, he was a Slytherin, and getting the bigger price was way better than just having a second of glory, and even if that wasn’t true in this case his loyalty was with that fucking old man and not with him.

Draco doesn’t really understand how his feet are moving, not when he can feel his whole body trembling so bad, not when the echoes of Potter’s footsteps made his ears hurt making him dizzy, not when he was trying so hard to not break down again.

He knows he should at least try and make sense of this whole situation, but it’s like his survival instincts are as gone as his mental stability, while he holds his wand tightly he tries to breathe, he looks in the mirror and he almost laughs at what he sees.

His vela heritage has always been present, with the whole pale skins and almost white hair and eyelashes, but now all he sees is the grey undertone, the same kind you would see at a corpse, and at this moment Draco wonders if he would finally become one.

He watches Harry arrive at the restroom, and he is about to surrender, he really is, but then his mother’s voice echoes in his head.

You need to survive Draco.

And in a desperate attempt of doing so he cast Crucio at the chosen one, and the whole situation is so pathetic because when nothing happens he just starts laughing, he can’t even stay alive for his mother, he’s a failure, he’s-

“You need to mean it for it to work, didn’t your dear aunt teach you that?”

Oh yes, Bellatrix did teach him that, in fact, she enjoyed a little bit too much the practical aspect of her lessons. So he tries again and again and he’s pretty sure after the 3rd try he’s mostly sobbing rather than casting a spell, so he lest himself fall to the ground, a sickening sound echoes in the restroom as his knees crashes against the cold floor.

He’s so tired.

So so tired.


Please save me” at first Harry is not sure if he's hearing correctly, so he stays still with the grip on his wand as stable as he manages with all the adrenaline he's feeling at the moment.

"Just kill me already!" and this time Harry knows that there was nothing fake behind that cry of help, not when this Draco Malfoy looked so broken and sounded so desperate. "just do it, do us a favour and fucking kill me" and Harry looks at the boy, this whole situation feels so surreal that he wonders if it's even real.

"I'm not going to kill you Malfoy," the pained cry the blond manages to produce between sobs reminds him vaguely of his own, back when Sirius was killed.

"Do it, don't be a fucking coward and do it!" the pleading seems so real but the cry for help implied is too big for him to ignore

"I'm going to come close to you, is that okay?"

"I'll let you know everything I know, just kill me please" Malfoy mumbles as Harry carefully approaches the boy, the moment he's sure Malfoy is not a threat he takes both of their wands and puts them in his pocket.

"It's okay, just breath," and Malfoy does, as for a second everything is okay, and then for the second time this week, Harry needs to catch Malfoy's body so he doesn't crash on the hard ground.

why can't normal shit happen to him just for once?

That's the thought Harry has all the way to the infirmary, at this point he doesn't know what's more ridiculous, if he carrying the passed-out git or the fact that once Malfoy is settled in a bed he stays. Madam Pomfrey asks a lot of questions he doesn't know the answer to, and he would laugh if it wasn't for the hard face the healer has while making diagnostic spells on the pale boy.

"Well, there's not much I can do without him awake, at least the bruises on his knees will disappear in a couple of days," and she leaves.

Harry can't help but smile at the fact that she doesn't tell him to go, or that visiting hours are going to be over in an hour. Maybe because she doesn't know what to make out of this situation (to be fair, Harry doesn't either) or maybe because she knows that he'll find a way to break the rules and stay anyways. Without much to do, he just sits there, out of all the time he has observed Malfoy in the past years this is the first where he manages to see a peaceful face on the boy, and if you see past the bags under his eyes from sleep deprivation and the way too prominent cheekbones for it to be healthy, Malfoy is quite pretty.

"I guess the rumors about your hero complex are true," a small voice interrupts his thoughts, "it's quite a shame you waste energy on people who don't deserve to be saved."

"I think it's up to me who I save or not, don't you think," the blond snorts lightly

"I see now why Granger is the brain of your group," the gray-eyed boy teases, "You don't win a war out of good intentions Potter,"  there's so much hurt and emptiness in those eyes that Harry feels a pang in his heart"

"Maybe not, but this has nothing to with war, I just did it because I wanted to,"


"Because it's what good people do, they hear a cry for help and the offer said help" any other day Harry would've gotten mad at the sarcastic laugh Malfoy let out, but not today, not when he's starting to realize that his whole persona was an act, that maybe the git is not so much of a git after all.

"Sure, let's say I believe you, what do you get out of it?"

"Just the satisfaction of doing the right thing, and I know it sounds even more fake than the other thing, but there are things you don't understand until you live them"

"Well, odds are that I'm never going to feel that"

"You do know it's never too late to do the right thing, right? And I'm not saying it's an easy thing to do because most of the time it hurts more than doing what's easy," he pauses and green meets gray "but at the end, I think it is worth it"

"Not everyone can do the right thing, neither know where to start" the dispair on Malfoy's voice makes Harry smile sadly


"I can help you with that" 

Narcissa's voice echoes once again in his head, a softer tone this time.

You need to survive Dragon, you just need to survive and after all this hell is over you'll be happy.

And for the first time since this hell started Draco feels hope.

"You promise to not take it back?" Draco decides to trust the black-haired boy, maybe because deep down he knows that he's going to die anyway so he might at least die doing the right thing.

"I promise"



Oh, promises are a really dangerous thing to make.



Chapter Text

Short-ass chapter, I know, BUT GOOD NEWS THE BORING PART IT'S OVER!!! Now we get to see what's going to happen with this new developing friendship and stuff, I'm really excited, thank you so much for being patient with me, university is killing me slowly, also thank you so much for your comments, I might no answer most of them but I read them and they make me feel really happy. Anyways, enjoy!


“You should just kill me, it would save us a lot of trouble”

In retrospect, Harry shouldn’t have promised such a big thing to the blond. Does he regret it? Well, maybe a little. Is going to break that promise? No, why? Honestly Harry would like to know that as well.

Worst of all, Malfoy was right, Harry clearly wasn’t the brain of the group and at this point asking Hermione for help would be a stupid thing to do, so, here he is in the middle of an abandoned classroom sitting in front of the blond.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t really think before I act so I bet you have better ideas than me,” said Harry after a long silence

“Oh no, no one ever thought that Potter, its common knowledge you have no thoughts at all,” the snarky tone was there but the usual evilness was gone.

“Pretty nice thing to say of the person who’s finding a way to save your sorry ass,”

“I already told you, you should just kill me,” the tiredness in Malfoy’s voice was something Harry couldn’t get used to, “I mean, what’s the point of trying? Your side is never going to believe and if my side finds out I’m going to get killed anyway, so why not die in hands of the savior instead of the Dark Lord? I bet you have more mercy than him,”

“Well, I don’t want to be a killer, so start using that brain of yours before I go and bring Hermione,” this whole situation was so weird, it makes Harry wonder what could’ve been like if Malfoy didn’t insulted his friends back when they were 11 and became friends instead, had he still been dragged into this mess, or could it have been prevented.

“I could pretend to be still on their side and bring you information, I know damn well that even if you are the face of this whole war a lot of information is being hidden from you,” the grey-eyed boy proposed after another long silence

“And how do I know you’re telling us real information and not just trying to deceive us?” the blond raised his eyebrows as if he was impressed by him asking good questions

“The same way I know you’re not just putting an act,”

“Why would I do that?” Malfoy shrugged, “how about I tell you something important and you tell me something back?”

“That’s just stupid, I could just lie to you”

“Well, I won’t so I expect you to do the same,”



Draco doesn’t like to remember the day he almost got the dark mark, he despised remembering how small everyone in that house made him feel and how scared he had been. He also remembers being angry, so fucking angry, at his mom and dad, at the Dark Lord, at his aunt, at everyone who swore loyalty to this madness, because why do they get the chance to do what they wanted? Why do they get the choice to be villains and not him? Because one thing was to live under all those stupid rules and that sickening mindset and another very different was to be dragged into a war just because of his father's incompetence.

But Draco was smart, and his short life has taught him to be a quick thinker as well, so when he managed to avoid being marked he couldn’t help but feel relieved, he really wish the was a spell or potion that could make him feel like that again forever. But villains don’t have happy endings, not even a nice road before their inevitable death.

How on earth was he going to kill his headmaster? This whole situation was ridiculous, and not because the thought of killing him made him particularly uncomfortable, but because he knew he wouldn’t succeed, hell, he knew he wasn’t even going to get close enough for the Dark Lord to have mercy on him.

The thought still makes him laugh because, on top of that, he also needed to fix a fucking cabinet with no instructions whatsoever, except maybe what the seller of the other cabinet could tell him. He was more confident about that aspect but the fact that if he succeeded Hogwarts was going to be invaded by fucking death eaters made him hesitate even to this day.

Telling all this to Harry Potter was the last thing he imagined would happen, yet here he was, if he got caught maybe he could blame his sleep-deprived brain made him prone to manipulation, he could lie and tell everyone the savior used Imperio on him and he was so tired his occlumency skills failed him miserably. He could also say that his malnourished body failed him while trying to fight the dose of Veritaserum Potter used on him, or just accept his fate and get killed by whoever found them.

But as much a Draco was a coward, the voice of his mother telling him to stay alive forced him to keep talking about his plans, and what he had done so far, not that it was much but the fact that his cursed necklace almost killed an innocent student was enough incentive for him to try and do the right thing for the first time in his life.

And here they were, a deafening silence invading the room almost making Draco want to scream just to fill it, but he didn’t, he just stared at those fucking green eyes that had followed him since he was 11, so he just stared back and waited.

He just waited.

“I need to retrieve an original memory that Slughorn altered years ago,” Potter talked and Malfoy could finally breathe, this was easy, manipulating was easy, it was safe

“I can help you with that,” and so like that, almost 6 years later, Malfoy stretched his hand again only that this time Potter shook it.

Chapter Text

Another chapter completed! The next one is going to be a heavy one so enjoy the calm before the storm

Harry paced nervously in his dorm thinking about how he had managed to keep the whole situation with Malfoy a secret. But after a lot of thinking he figured that if the blond’s plan worked out fine then he’ll be able to tell Ron and Hermione with actual proof that, even if it was a risky decision, it was a risk worth taking.

“How?” Harry asked, not to be distrusting but Hermione has had a lot of plans and most of them failed miserably

“First I need to know what the memory was about, not the minor details if it’s a problem to you, but the general topic would be helpful”

“It was about Voldemort asking something, we know that Slughorn altered it to look like he didn’t mess up by providing him said information, but all we need to know is what he said to him,” the way Draco shuddered at Voldemort’s name picked Harry’s interest, but he decided to not ask about it.

“Well, it’s easy, that old man might be a coward but he’s not stupid, he’s cunning and ambitious, why else would he invite you to the Slug club?”

“Because I’m good at potions?” Draco snorted

“I mean, yeah sure, I don’t know how but aside from that you’re famous, look at that club, none of them are just there for being good at potions instead they are there either because they’re famous, well connected or show a promised future in some magic fields,”

“Then why aren’t you there?”

“This isn’t going to work out if you don’t learn to listen to me, I already told you he’s a coward and it’s not a secret that my father is a death eater, and Slughorn is terrified of the Dark Lord, and it might have to do something with that memory you’re trying to retrieve”

“So… what’s the plan?” it’s still weird to hear Draco laugh without the

“You need to make him feel like he’s going to be a hero, tell him your sob story about how this memory could make worthy all these years of suffering and that without his help you may never be able to defeat the Dark Lord, he’s a Slytherin, self-preservation is a must but pride often it’s more important for us”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then you guilt him up, did you know that your mother was part of his club? An all-time favourite according to my mother”

So here he was, outside of his potions teacher classroom, thinking about it he should’ve drank the whole bottle of Felix Felicis, but after all, this was a test to see if Draco could be a good asset to his team.

He sighed

“Oh Harry, my boy, what are you doing here? It’s almost nightfall, you shouldn’t be wandering so far from your common room,” was the first thing Horace said when he opened the door

“Professor, I realized that I had some free time and then I remembered about that time you extended an invitation for butterbeer and a pleasant conversation, so here I am”

“Say less, come in come in, I’m sure we can manage some snacks as well”

Harry knew that having alcohol involved was kind of a low blow, but he was running out of time and desperate times calls for desperate measures.

“We both know why you’re here Harry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you”

“I guessed that much professor, it’s hard but I accepted that not everyone wants to be a hero and they’re okay with being forgotten when this whole thing ends, I wouldn’t be mad at my friends for putting themselves first but I think that one of the many reasons they don’t do it is because they know that doing something to win this war is better than doing nothing,”

“I’m a Slytherin, being brave is not one of the house values,”

“I know, but I had hope that your pride was worth more than your self-preservation, you wouldn’t be much different from his followers if you just withdrawal vital information in order to maintain an image that it’s going to collapse the moment people know you didn’t help at all knowing well you could’ve done it”

“You remind me of your mother, she was always so passionate about doing what was right and was always finding a way to protect those who needed it the most”

“Yeah, that sounds like her, that night where I got this scar she sacrificed herself, she refused to step aside, instead she chose to let her love be more powerful than Voldemort and for a long time I didn’t know about it,” he paused and remembered Draco’s words, “I’m not going to lie and tell you that I’m not scared, but I know the I’m the chosen one and that only I can do so but I can’t do it alone and your memory might be, if not is, the biggest clue on how I can defeat him, so please, be brave like she was otherwise all these years of suffering would’ve been in vain,”

The silence in the room might make this the most uncomfortable situation he has ever been involved in, and let’s not forget that he saw Snape’s memories once last year, but this silence was different. It was a sober silence, the kind you feel like a prisoner as it enfolds you.

“You must promise not to think badly of me when you see it, I had no idea what he was like even then,”

And with that Harry returned with the real memory saved on the small vial.


“How did you manage to retrieve the original memory? I was so sure he was never going to give it to you,” Hermione asked with a slight frown on her face

“Do you promise to hear me out before jumping to conclusions?”


“It was Malfoy’s idea,” she opened her mouth to say something but Harry raised his hand to stop her, “before you ask, no, I didn’t tell you what the memory was about nor why I needed it,  just that I needed to retrieve a memory from Slughorn and I didn’t know how,”

“Okay, that answers one of my questions, but not the most important one, how did Malfoy end up being part of this”

“So… remember when you told me I had a major savior complex?” Hermione raised her eyebrow and nodded, “turns out that also applies with him, and before you say something, no, I don’t think I would do the same for anyone else in his situation and to be honest I still don’t understand why I did it but you just had to be there, that look he gave was so-”


“It was the same look Molly must’ve seen in me the day Ron along with Fred and George rescued me back in the second year,”


“Yeah, and I mean, we know Malfoy is a coward, but maybe a useful one? You can’t deny he must know a lot of things that could help us prepare for the war, and maybe it’s time to decide whether this rivalry is more important than the information we can receive from him,”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree, still, I wouldn’t trust him so blindly just yet,”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry asked as they finished planning how he was going to retrieve the memory

“Because I’m risking my life helping you retrieve a memory that I’m sure Dumbledore asked you to get,”

“How did you know that-“

“Oh please, don’t insult my intelligence, I’ve been watching you I’m just subtle enough for you to not notice, I should give you classes about that because I’m sure the back of my head has a whole with how much you stared at it,” Harry laughed and after a second Draco joined him.

“So if I succeed at this... then what?”

“Then you do what you must and leave my name out of it, no one can know that I’m helping you”


“Because bravery is a Gryffindor thing, we Slytherins value self-preservation, and if after everything you end up failing I need to be sure my mother is safe and I can assure you that me being a traitor is not the best way to succeed at it”

“Yeah, I know Mione, I’ll be careful this time”

Chapter Text


Also pls remember that it’s been like 8 years since I re-read the books and like 2 since I saw the movies so I’m just messing around with the timeline as I please so that it fits my plot (that I finally got together in the middle of a fever dream lol) Also, I mention mumblemumps which is basically mumps but make it magical term according to the video game of Harry Potter and the chamber of secrets lol.

Harry didn’t mean for it to happen this much time in between retrieving the memory and talking with Malfoy again, his best excuse is that it would be weird for him to approach the boy out of nowhere considering their history, but in reality, is because he didn’t know what else to do.

He tried to ignore it, to distract himself with his quidditch training now that he got to be captain, hell, he even started to do homework right away so he could stay busy, but then that stupid dinner with the Slug club came around, and with no excuse to get out of it Harry found himself dressed in his most decent outfit outside of Slughorn’s office

“I've never been to this part of the castle, you know? At least not while awake,” he did not want to be there, but maybe the fact that he brought Luna along made the whole thing easier to digest.

“Really? I don’t think I’ve been here before either, but it makes sense if you’ve been considering is quite close to Ravenclaw’s common room”

“I never thought about that,” Luna answered with a smile and then proceeded to start talking about her father’s latest discovery,

“Oh, there you are! Remind me why I thought inviting Cormac into this stupid thing?” Hermione interrupted them, which Harry would never admit to being thankful for out of respect for the nice blond girl

“Because you wanted to make Ron jealous but forgot about the fact he’s as oblivious as I am?”

“Would it be rude to leave already? I mean, it´s not like this stupid party makes sense”

“Or we could just dance, I bet your sparkly dress would look even prettier in those bright candle lights,” a dreamy voice reminded Harry that he didn’t come alone, and if Harry wasn’t in need of fresh air he wouldn’t have ignored the pleading face of Hermione as she was almost dragged to the center of the improvised dance floor.

But he did, and also, a little bit of time with Luna could do some good to her.

So yeah, Harry wasn´t proud of how long it took him to talk with Malfoy again, but maybe destiny had its own plans for it to happen because not even 5 minutes since he left the party room he heard voices having a soon to become a heated argument.

Draco couldn’t help but feel like he was tricked, the rational part of his brain kept telling him that Potter had more important stuff to do than check on him, but since that conversation about having to retreat a memory the raven-haired boy hadn’t talked to him at all, hell, he hadn’t even looked at him for more than a second.

So for the first time in a long long time, Draco let the not so rational part of his brain win and that’s how he ended up in this situation, sure, wandering the halls so close to that stupid party where, may he add, he wasn’t required not even by his oh so great friend Blaise; wasn’t the brightest idea. But maybe the lack of nutrients in his body had finally started to affect his decision-making, and the lack of sleep made it really hard for him to focus on his stupid task.

So here he was, wandering in the empty halls trying to shut his thoughts with the background voices, and it was working until it didn’t.

“What do you think you’re doing here? I know that you weren’t invited to this… party”

“I just wanted to take some fresh air, professor”

“So far away from the common room? Even I know that prefect duties can only give so much liberty Mr. Malfoy”

“Well, why don’t we stop insulting each other intelligence and let this whole affair go? I was just leaving anyway” Draco is so tired, not even the good old memories with his godfather manage to make this whole exchange easier.

“You’re afraid, Draco. You attempt to conceal it, but it’s obvious. Let me assist you-”

“I don’t need help, I was chosen for this! Not you, not my mother but me, and you must know better than trying to make a fool out of the Dark Lord,”

“I swore to protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow-“

“Well, I don’t need protection, I’m doing perfectly fine Severus, now if you let me-“

“I can see the sloppiness in your attempts, it’s not going to be long before someone notices it, maybe someone already has,” the worry that tainted Snape’s words almost made Draco feel miserable, “you’re going to get yourself killed, if not by the Dark Lord by someone in the “good side”, and you just seem to be looking for it”

“And if I am, what is it to you?”

“You’re just a kid,” Snape said while pushing his hair backward, “you should go back to your room, the party is almost over and I heard Filch doing his rounds earlier so it must not be long before he does them again, good night Draco”

Draco doesn’t answer, he doesn’t feel like he has to. He’s just so tired of everything and everyone and maybe if that stupid boy with that stupid hero complex fucking listened to him he could just-

“You can stop lurking around private conversations Potter, at least have the decency to stop listening when the talk is over instead of keep watching me like a creep”

Well, if Harry ever doubted what Malfoy said about noticing everything around him now he was proved wrong.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just-”

“Oh please, cut the bullshit, if you just happened to pass by and didn’t mean to hear my conversation you would just turn around instead of staying, but you know what? I don’t have it in me to care anymore,”

Harry looked at the boy properly since he arrived to the scene, it was fascinating and honestly, quite concerning, how quickly someone can deteriorate in such little time because Malfoy seemed to have aged 30 years in the last 3 weeks and the slight anormal tremors in his hands made Harry consider taking the boy to the hospital wing as soon as possible.

“Are you done studying me? Because if you don’t mind I would like to go back to my room so I can at least be miserable in a somewhat comfortable bed,”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Yeah… subtle wasn’t Harry’s middle name but apparently, the question shocked Malfoy to the point where the blond boy didn’t seem to mind the lack of tact in which he brought up the topic.


“Yeah, I mean… the food at this party is too posh for me and I’m quite hungry and I don’t remember seeing you at the dining hall today so I thought that maybe you were hungry and… yeah”



If Harry noticed the way the blond swung to each side with every step he definitely decided against his impulsivity to bring it up, gladly his filter decided to work again saving him from another awkward exchange with the other boy.

"I'm craving something simple, I'm not much for big dinners but we can have anything you want"

"Tomato soup, I would like tomato soup" and with that Harry tickled the pear waiting for it to giggle so they could enter the kitchen.

When Draco was 6 years old he contracted Mumblemumps thanks to Pansy who contracted it from a cousin, he remembers feeling miserable and looking hideous, his father didn't let his mother see him at all while he recovered. Draco wasn't proud to admit that the lack of his mother's comforting words made the whole ordeal worse for him, there's not much he remembers from that time, but in between fever dreams, he remembers Dobby bringing him tomato soup, saying that it would be a nutritious meal for him and an easy one to eat as well since it didn't require a lot of effort that could aggravate his pain.

Maybe that's why he ended up in the kitchen with what he used to consider his worst enemy eating the same tomato soup made by the same house-elf who gave it to him with the same sweet tone he used to do every time he was sick because after that horrible quarantine period every time he felt sick he could only eat tomato soup. Why? Maybe because it brought a warm and comforting feeling to him, or maybe because it tasted like someone cared, even if that someone was just a house-elf.

Draco doesn't realize the moment hot tears start streaming from his eyes all the way down his cheeks and onto the kitchen table, nor when Potter held his hand with such care and delicacy it made him cry harder.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" he just managed to shake his head, he knew that if he attempted to talk what was left of his act would go to hell, "Draco?"

Fuck it.

"I don't think I want to be alive anymore, you know?"

"Yeah, I think I know"




Chapter Text

So proud of myself to finish this earlier than I thought, I can't wait for the next chapter cause finally things are about to get good (hurt/comfort here I come)

Draco wasn’t stupid, even at an early age he showed how his magic could take him far with the right training, which meant more tutoring classes even before Hogwarts started, and once it did his summers were full of complicated books and tiring training.

But that was okay because managing to master a new spell, learn a new potion, or even be close to winning a duel made his father happy and sometimes he even let a small smile full of the approval Draco desperately craved.

So why can’t he manage to make this work? It’s a stupid cabinet for Merlin’s shake! He was so tired, so damn tired of only managing to see half-assed results after so much work, it made him feel useless and at this point, he was beginning to wonder if he actually was useless.

Maybe he should let himself get killed, it would save his mother a lot of trouble, he could make it seem as if he was doing something honorable in the Dark Lord’s name, but no, he was a coward with too much self-preservation left for his own good.

Throwing the half-eaten apple to the floor he sighed, maybe if he accomplished the other task… yeah right.

Harry played his last conversation with the blond in his mind way too many times for it to be good, wondering if going over the memory again and again would give him any clue about what Draco had meant with that and if the git realized just how much honesty Harry answered.

Was he worried? Not really, maybe a little embarrassed but Harry can’t deny how good it felt to finally voice his concerns with someone who didn’t smother him with worry and positive words, because as good as it felt from time to time it was starting to annoy him more than it comfort him.

And then there was his worst worry, his private lessons with Dumbledore lately felt more like a goodbye rather than a guide, not that he didn’t appreciate the lessons but he couldn’t begin to understand how learning about Riddle’s childhood would help him defeat him, and even if it did had a purpose his headmaster should know by now how useless he was in terms of reading between lines.

And what was even worse, Hermione didn’t have a clue about it either, her best guess was that sometimes knowing your enemy’s backstory could help you locate their weak points, but they both knew that there was little to nothing left from Riddle in Voldemort's mind and soul, which lead them to their next problem, all they knew about horocruxes was what Slughorn’s memory provided and that kind of dark magic was nowhere to be found on the school’s library, and most of the Black’s family books wouldn’t let themselves to be read by any of them. A blood traitor, a half-blood, and a muggle, what a fucking great group they had for this task.

He sighs.

“If you don’t stop that you’re going to rip off the page,” he heard Hermione say, “and at this point, I’m letting you keep it just because you need to pass this class if you want to be an Auror”

Oh yes, the famous potions book, who was this Half-blood prince and where was he back in his first year when Snape humiliated him in front of the whole class. Well, at least he had it now and to him, that was enough.

Draco likes to think that he’s observant, rather than nosy, but you couldn’t blame him for being curious about how in the world Potter managed to pass from being one of the worst potioneers he had ever seen to one of the best ones.

His first guess? That old potions book he carried everywhere. And to be honest, it wasn’t much of a guess anymore since he had heard the golden trio fight because of it, and after observing the way the black-haired boy did his potions lately he couldn’t help but feel like he had seen that techniques somewhere else before.

So annoying.

“Another excellent potion Mr. Potter, you’re clearly a gifted kid, not surprising considering who your mother was,” Draco scoffed, he had an excellent potion as well, he had been able to do this potion even before he turned 15, where was his compliment?

“Jealous?” Pansy teased making him roll his eyes

“As if, you’re delusional Pans, I don’t need anyone’s approval, and most certainly not his,” and with that, he vanished what was left of his Calderon and submitted his potion as well.

He wanted that book.

“I’m starting to think out headmaster has some kind of sickness that makes him delusional, I bet it’s because of his advanced age, please kill me before I get old and start talking nonsense”

“It’s called dementia and Dumbledore certainly doesn’t have it Ron, on the other hand you might have it because I’m afraid you’ve been talking nonsense since you were eleven”

“Merlin Hermione, you should try joking from time to time, it’s what normal people do,” normally Harry would laugh at the situation, but today he felt exhausted.

“And what if I asked… you know who,” he broke the discussion between his two best friends.

“Please tell me ‘you-know-who’ is code for a friend of us and not the dark lord himself,” oh that’s right, he hadn’t told Ron about the developments in his and Malfoy’s relationship, he looked at Hermione asking what to do and she shrugged.

“Your choice,” great help Mione

“So… remember that time where we were brainstorming about how we would retrieve Slughorn’s memory? I may or may not have followed Malfoy’s advice in that one,”


“Yeah, kind of crazy isn’t it? Turns out he’s not as much of a git as I originally thought, quite useful if you ask me, and also did you know he’s friends with Myrtle? Amazing, isn’t it? And-”

“You’re rambling,” Hermione said as she turned the book’s page

“Great observation Hermione, I hadn’t noticed,” the sarcasm could be heard millions of kilometers from afar

“Is this you having a savior complex again Harry? And if the answer is yes, do I have to be included in it?”

Harry really loved how Ron’s mind worked, so simple, with no drama, just big feelings, and good intentions.

“Not at all my good friend, not at all”

Draco paced in the bathroom waiting for the potion to be ready for him to turn off the fire, just a few more seconds until his new batch was perfect, he had finally found what was missing for it to enhance the calming effect but not the sleepy one.

Funnily enough, the idea came to him today as he watched Potter at potions class, why hadn’t he thought about changing the way he added the lavender to it? Of course, cutting and crushing would lead to two different results.

So he really hoped this would work because he was sure his godfather had already noticed how quickly the crocodile heart disappeared from his personal ingredients.

 “You need to stop drinking that Draco, I’m scared one day you’ll take too much and join me,” the girl said to him as he tried to control the shakiness of his hands while putting the drops in a cup of water.

“Don’t be silly Liz, I told you it’s a deluded version of the potion, just enough for it to be calming but not strong enough for it to make me sleepy”

“Still, I can’t help but worry about you, as much as I like having a friend I don’t want to be responsible for your death”

“And tell me silly, how on earth would you be responsible?”

“Because I should’ve told someone about it like I should tell someone about your other… habits as well,”

Draco sighed, just when he thought he could have an easy night the world decided to remind him that the only way for him to be peaceful was going to be at his death bead… sometimes he even doubts that.

“You can come out Potter, you’re not as inconspicuous as you may think,” and with that Myrtle left the bathroom leaving the two of them alone. “And well? What’s the problem this time?”

“What do you know about Horcruxes?”

Oh yeah, it seemed that he would need way more than a couple of drops of Calming draught to survive the night.