Drarry Prompt: (8th year) Where Draco ends up holding Harry's hand every time he is scared. This comes as a surprise to both of them.
Harry gaped at Malfoy, their fingers laced together. Malfoy was staring blankly ahead, his mouth twisted in a frown. Harry was too in shock to say anything. Too confused to move. The had been in Potions, somehow paired up together again, working on their Draught of Living death, when out of nowhere, his hand had flown to Harry’s, gripping it tightly. Harry had been mid-sentence, explaining how they could have used this potion during the war. He found himself unable to finish, his thoughts lost completely. He couldn’t focus with the warmth of Malfoy’s hand in his own. Harry could feel the other boy’s heartbeat, pulsing quickly between his fingers. He swallowed.
Draco shook his head roughly, as if trying to expel the memories from his head. His eyes focused around him and he realised he was sitting in the Potions classroom.
He turned his head, a sneer forming on his face.
“What, Potter? Can’t figure out a simple potion? The instructions are right in front of you.”
Potter looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, as he raised their joined hands. Draco spluttered, a soft blush forming on his face. He ripped his hand away like it was on fire.
“Taking advantage of me? Just wait..” He trailed off. “Nevermind.”
Neither of them spoke the rest of the class,
It wasn’t until a Defense Against the Dark Arts class a couple of weeks later that it happened again.
They had been standing next to each other in the semi-circle, waiting for the Boggart to approach. Everyone already knew how to cast a Patronus, but their new Professor had decided it was worth going over again. Draco glanced over at Potter and caught himself staring. He frowned. Draco didn’t know how they kept getting stuck working together. Some inter-house unity bollocks. McGonnagall had decided that after the war, the students who returned needed to get along better and be more accepting of each other. Some Hufflepuff nonsense, as far as Draco was concerned.
Suddenly, it was his turn to face off with the Boggart. He gasped as it shifted and morphed in front of him, and all of a sudden Potter was standing before him, a cruel smile twisting his face. He reached for Potter’s hand, gripping it tightly.
Harry couldn’t move, save for his eyes darting back and forth between Malfoy and the imposter standing in front of him. He vaguely registered that Malfoy was clutching his hand tightly, but he couldn’t focus on that. Why was he Malfoy’s boggart? And then the Boggart Harry started talking.
“I can’t believe I saved you. I should have let you die in that fire. Should have let you die on that bathroom floor. Should have finished the job then.”
Harry noticed Malfoy start shaking, and then realised his own was shaking. He looked down and saw they were holding hands again. When did that happen? He tried to let go, but Malfoy was holding on so tightly he didn’t stand a chance.
“You weren’t worth saving! You just went right back to join Voldemort, then slinked away with your family, your tails between your legs. What good have you done since?”
Harry shook his head and stepped forward, catching the attention of the Boggart, as it changed again, this time into a Dementor. Harry sighed, shaking his head. Of course it was still the same, he still couldn’t get over that fear. The fear of fear itself, as Lupin had said.
The room was silent as the Boggart moved on, and Harry tugged on his hand that was joined with Malfoy’s.
“You know, I don’t regret saving you, right?” He said quietly.
Malfoy finally met his eyes and shook his head slowly, after some time dropping his hand to his side.
One week later, walking with Potter and Pansy in between classes, Draco was pushed against a wall. He turned around to face his attacker and it was some Hufflepuff Eighth Year. He didn’t know his name, but he knew his face. They shared most of their classes together. He didn’t even have time to reach for his wand before the larger boy had his out and pressed against his chest.
“You know, nobody would mind if I just hexed you right here. You shouldn’t have come back. No one wants you here.”
Draco closed his eyes and flinched, not able to defend himself, preparing for the worst.
Justin Finch-Fletchly? When had he developed such a mean streak? Harry started to protest, stepping closer to Malfoy, his hand reaching for his wand, when suddenly it was full of something. He looked down. Malfoy had grabbed his hand. Again. He couldn’t help the smile that started to form on his face, before he brought his attention back to Justin.
“You and I both know what will happen if you do that, and I don’t think you want to fight me.” He started, magic flaring in his veins. Justin’s eyes went wide, and he stepped back, shaking his head. “Whatever, Harry. He’s not worth it, anyway.”
As Justin walked off, Pansy turned to Malfoy.
“I can’t believe you were just going to take it, You didn’t deserve that! Everyone knows the position you were put in, they basically put your entire trial in the Prophet!” She sighed. “Come on, Draco. Let’s go to class.”
As they turned to walk away, Malfoy tugged Harry along. Either he didn’t realise he was still holding on, or he didn’t want to let go. Harry didn’t mind either way.
Eighth years from every house sat huddled together in their shared common room. It was Halloween and somehow Pansy had convinced Draco to participate in the movie night they were having. Some Gryffindor had brought a muggle movie in and Granger had figured out how to make it work without a… television? Whatever that was.
He somehow found himself on the couch, sitting next to Potter, Weasley on his other side. It didn’t bother him as much as he expected.
Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy’s body, his leg pressing against his, but for some reason he didn’t want to move it away. Seamus had brought in Nightmare on Elm street. Harry had heard his cousin talking about it with his friends once, but he had never been able to see it. Thank Merlin Hermione was clever and fixed it so everyone could watch.
He looked over at Malfoy, He had started growing out his hair more, it hung loosely around his face, kissing his cheeks. Harry blushed. He did not think of Malfoy and kissing in the same sentence. He didn’t.
He couldn’t focus the entire movie. He knew there was something going on with this guy going into dreams, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Malfoy. He was so present next to him, he couldn’t stop thinking of their thighs pressing together, their feet resting against each other. He was so preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice when Malfoy’s hand found his, gripping it tightly. He was too busy watching Malfoy’s face, watching his eyebrows shoot into his hair in shock. He swallowed and turned to face the movie, unconsciously stroking the other boy’s hand with his thumb.
“Um.. Malfoy?” Harry finally got his attention, after standing nearby for a few minutes, unsure what to say.
“Yes, Potter? Here to harass me?” He looked up from his book and raised his eyebrow at Harry.
“What’s going on? I mean, with the hand holding? Hermione is making me talk to you. I told her to mind her own business, but then Ron and Neville ganged up on me, too. Um.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you should go.”
“I… don’t mind.” Harry struggled to get out. “The hand holding, I mean. I just don’t understand. You hate me.”
Malfoy just stared at him. Harry stood there for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded sharply.
“Right, then. Right. Okay.”
He turned and rushed out of the library.
Draco caught up to Potter near the Great Hall.
“Wait!” He called out, coming to a stop a few feet behind him. “I… I don’t know. The hand thing. It just happened. And then again.”
Harry turned and frowned.
“I mean, I don’t hate you.” Draco forced out. “I don’t think I ever did, not really. I think I was just angry. And jealous. And, well. I don’t think Pansy understands. What I had to go through. What you went through.”
Harry tilted his head to one side. Draco thought he looked like a confused puppy, and shoved down the thought that it was slightly adorable.
“I’m not sure. That potions class. It’s like I was back in the war. You were talking about it and then I was there. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And Defense? That boggart-” Draco clenched his jaw and looked away.
Harry stepped closer.
“It’s okay, you know. To be scared?”
“I’m not! Why would I be scared, Potter?”
His head snapped up at Harry’s use of his name.
Harry held out his hand and Draco took it, a slow grin forming on his face. Together, they walked into the Great Hall.