Chapter Text
The next morning the truce doesn't stand between himself and Malfoy like Harry hopes it might. Malfoy ignores him and regards him with his regular dismissive look leaving Harry feeling disappointed and stupid. Somehow in the dim lighting of their room at night he was able to think the unthinkable idea of Malfoy being anything other than what he is - a former deatheater and a slimy git. That illusion has shattered now as Harry walks to his first class, Transfiguration, with Ron.
“Have you seen ‘Mione?” Ron asks him, interrupting his fervent thoughts of Malfoy.
“Erm, no?” Harry replies, looking around and realising he hasn’t seen her all morning, “Where is she?”
“I dunno, but I’m getting worried,” Ron admits, looking it with his skin a light green, “She’s never late to class.”
It’s that moment that a flushed Hermione rushes out from behind them, her hair bushier than usual and a stressed look on her face, “I slept in!” She cries, grasping her books in her arms messily, “And I haven’t even finished studying the extra chapters for transfiguration yet!”
“Hermione, what happened to going to the library last night?” Ron questions, his relief at her return suddenly changing to confusion, “You said you were going last night?”
“Well, I was,” Hermione admits, “But I got…sidetracked.”
Before she can explain further, they arrive at transfiguration. Harry reaches for the door absently and collides with someone else at the same time. He looks up and immediately feels himself flare. Of course it’s Malfoy. Their hands are touching a second before Malfoy bats him away and barges past to walk inside first.
“Prick,” Harry mutters, but he’s still frozen looking at his hand that prickles oddly. Trust even Malfoy’s magical signature to stick around to annoy him. Hermione gives him a little push.
“Come on, Harry, we’re barely on time!”
He follows them inside and sits down as Hermione explains her activities from yesterday. It’s rather entertaining watching Ron’s jaw drop lower and lower as Hermione tells him in a hurried whisper how she’s spent the afternoon smoking with the Slytherins.
“It was oddly…I don’t know, pleasant? I think if we can move past everything, all the darkness and segregation and fear Voldemort pushed on us we can really move on,” She smiles a little, “They’re alright people and, though I hate to admit it, they’re funny .”
“Goodness Hermione, I can’t believe you’re being so friendly with them!” Ron exclaims, grabbing his hair in one hand, “You didn’t smoke any of their…pot, did you?”
“Well…” Hermione turns red and Harry can’t help bursting into stunned laughter. He can’t imagine her being stoned. He’d never even tried it himself. The idea reminds him of the night before.
While Ron is still spluttering, Harry asks, “Hermione, did Malfoy smoke too?”
“Yeah, why’s that, Harry?” She replies. The answer solves the question of his niceness last night. He’d been high. No wonder he wasn’t quite so rude to Harry. Luckily, before he can think of an excuse for Hermione, Professor McGonagall walks into the room.
“Good morning, everyone,” She greets, stepping up to the front, “I’m aware you were expecting Ms Thimble but as she’s been sick I will be covering the lesson today. Today’s transfiguration is a simple reversing charm. We will all start with an envelope with a blank piece of parchment inside it. We’ll use the transformation spell we learnt last week and turn the envelope into something new before using the reversing charm to turn it back to its previous form. Understood?”
Everyone nods and envelopes are handed out around the room. Unfortunately, Hermione turns to Harry while she’s opening up her textbook to revise her reversing spell, “You haven’t answered my question.”
“It doesn’t matter why I asked, does it? I was just curious,” Harry says shiftily.
“Did he say something to you last night?” Hermione questions.
“No, why would you say that?” Harry’s getting rather sick of having to stick up from himself and make excuses.
“I don’t know, you just seem to be spiralling every time anyone mentions him,” Hermione mutters.
Harry scoffs, “I do not.”
Ron chimes in though Harry thought he wasn’t listening, “You do, we can see it on your face. Like you’re working out some difficult equation. Why do you care? He’s not likely to be up to anything. I get it must be unnerving rooming with him but can’t you try to ignore him?”
“It’s not that easy!” Harry cries, annoyed with their pestering, “Can we drop this?”
“Sure,” Hermione says, but her beady eyes tell Harry she’s not finished with him yet. Oh well, he doesn’t care anyways. He turns to his envelope and recalls the transforming spell from the week before. He casts it and his envelope turns into a doorknob. Pleased, he glances over at Malfoy on instinct, trying to catch him in the act of something or make sure he’s not hexing him behind his back. Then, Harry mentally kicks himself for the impulse. Especially when the blonde meets his eyes, the grey dark from far away. He gives Harry an unimpressed once over before turning back to his work. Harry does the same, casting his reversing spell in a rush.
Harry is glad when his envelope returns, blank and pristine like it was previously. Hermione grins at him and Professor McGonagall who’s walking past picks it up, “This is good work, Potter,” She says, opening the envelope and sliding the parchment out. Her eyes widen and she pushes the paper back in while clearing her throat, “Try to make sure your spells are thorough the whole way through and not just complete on the surface.” She sighs as she hands back the envelope, “And remember magic is the mirror to the mind.”
She walks on and Hermione takes the envelope from Harry. She opens it and eyes the paper suspiciously. Then her look changes to something more soft, more sad. When all she can say is, “Oh, Harry.” He snatches the envelope back, looking at the parchment. It’s not blank like it was before, instead it is covered in his handwriting. Over and over, on top of each other and rewritten and scribbled out. The same jumbled sentence repeats again and again, ‘I’m not obsessed with Malfoy.’
“What’s he done?” Ron pipes up, looking frustratedly at his own reversing work which has crumpled his envelope into a ball.
“Nothing, Ron,” Hermione says, giving Harry one more look. He’s relieved that she’s not saying anything. He’d rather pretend the envelope incident didn’t happen. He’s not sure why it did anyways. He really isn’t obsessed with Malfoy. He’s simply…plagued. Yes! It’s not his fault they have a crude history he can’t forget and a housing situation that endlessly gets on his nerves.
Harry thinks after class he might get a break, but he’s poorly mistaken. When he steps out of Transfiguration, there’s a familiar head of red hair waiting for him expectantly. Ginny is leaning against the corridor wall but she straightens at the sight of him, brushing her hair behind one ear in that careful way she does when she’s unsure. Her expression is neutral, but her eyes — those same fierce, fire-lit ones that helped him survive the darkest year of his life — search him like she’s bracing for something.
Harry feels like he’s been caught out. Like the parchment in his envelope is somehow still stuck to his chest, glowing and obvious.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Got a minute?”
Both Hermione and Ron take the hint and move onto their next class wordlessly. Harry’s not sure if he’s glad or not. Would it be more or less having his best friends there? He hasn’t spoken to Ginny barely at all since everything had happened. He’d become a recluse until his return to Hogwarts and now, well, he’s definitely been ignoring her to some extent. She feels like a situation too complicated to deal with and the guilt at feeling that way slowly eats at him.
“Yeah,” Harry says, voice dry. “Of course.”
They walk a bit until they’re out of earshot. There’s a little alcove near a stone archway, the same one he remembers pulling her into once during sixth year when things still felt simple and snogging her was the most rebellious thing he’d ever done. Now the air between them feels taut, but not angry. Just... tired.
Ginny is the first to speak. “I don’t want this to be weird. But it is, isn’t it?”
He nods. “Yeah. A bit.”
They stand in silence. The hallway is slowly emptying as students filter off to their next classes, voices bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of a more normal school year. But nothing is normal now. Not after the war. Not with this slow unraveling between them.
“I think about us,” Ginny says, not looking at him. “But I also think... we rushed back into it. After everything. Maybe we just needed something that felt good. Familiar.”
Harry swallows, his throat dry. “You were more than familiar.”
“I know.” She smiles, small and sad. “And I don’t regret it. Not one bit. But we’re both trying to heal, and we’re doing it differently. I think I need space to figure out who I am without the war. Without being ‘the girl who dated the Chosen One.’”
Harry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You’re more than that. You always have been.”
“I know. But I need to feel that. Not just hear it from you.” They lapse into silence again. A breeze flutters past, cool and sharp. Somewhere far down the corridor, Peeves cackles like a gremlin at their somber conversation.
“I care about you,” she says. “I always will. Maybe when we’re both less... bruised, we’ll see what’s left. But for now — I think we need time apart.”
He nods again, quieter this time. “Yeah. That sounds right.”
She reaches out and squeezes his hand — warm, quick, a goodbye that doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. “Write to me, if you want,” she says as she turns to go. “But no pressure.”
“I will.”
And she’s gone. Harry stands there alone for a while, watching students pass by. He thinks about how strange it is — the things that survive war, and the things that don’t. Ginny survived, but their relationship, maybe, wasn’t meant to. Maybe they needed a break. He certainly did.
In his next class, Hermione leans over to gently ask, “How was it?”
He shrugs and says simply, “We’re taking a break to heal. I don’t really know what's going to happen.”
“I see,” Hermione hums. She focuses on her work for a moment before murmuring back, “Maybe you need a diary? To help you start to process and move on from all this? I know how you feel, trapped or stuck by what happened but-” Hermione grips her quill tightly, “It’s key to move on. No matter how difficult.”
Harry takes in the idea, but decides not to pursue it immediately. It’s too much to think about, especially when his envelope still sits in his bag, feeling as though it’s burning a hole through.
***
It’s later on when Harry’s disturbed once more, this time by the Slytherins. He’s sitting in the common room with Hermione and Ron when they bustle past carrying bags and picnic rugs wearing sunglasses and hats. Pansy spots Hermione and rushes over, “Hey, want to join our picnic?”
“I have to study,” Hermione starts, but Pansy rolls her eyes.
“You don’t even need to study, you’re brilliant,” She says, seeming to mean it. Harry is taken aback, especially when Hermione blushes once again under Pansy’s gaze, “Give your brain a rest, I’m going to be stuck with Luna so I need your perspective too.”
Hermione grins a little at that, before turning to Ron and Harry. Pansy notices and says, “Obviously the Chosen One and Ginger can come too.”
“Oi, it’s Ron ,” Ron huffs, but he still stands with Hermione and accepts the invitation. Harry gets the feeling it’s because of the faint smell of weed wafts from Neville, Seamus and Dean who are already standing with the Slytherins looking giddy and mischievous.
Harry hesitates, especially when he sees Malfoy walk out with Luna, wearing a white button up and a pair of well-fitted trousers. Then again, he glances around at all his friends that are getting ready to go. He can’t miss out, can he? Ron holds out a hand to help Harry off the couch and he takes it.
The group is quite big as they walk through Hogwarts. Blaise talks excitedly with Dean and Seamus, a joint already rolled and tucked behind his ear. Theodore watches with an unimpressed look, chatting with Neville and Greg who look deeply invested in whatever their conversation is about. Harry also notices Blaise with his betting book out with a lump in his throat. Mischief seems unavoidable with this trip, whether he likes it or not. Though Harry walks with Ron, they both are watching the four walking ahead of them. Pansy, Hermione, Luna and Malfoy all walk in a line in that order. Luna is wearing a wide brimmed hat and keeps giggling when she bumps into Malfoy who can’t help the slight smile every time she laughs. Harry watches it, bewildered. Ron is watching Hermione walk arm in arm with Pansy, put out.
“I don’t know if I like this,” Ron admits.
Harry can’t help his chuckle, “Me neither, mate.”
They walk to the outskirts of Hogwarts before apparating to a field that seems to be in the middle of nowhere. It’s got a line of trees along the outside and the Slytherins start marching towards them with purpose. It’s oddly good weather for autumn, the sky warm and the breeze light enough to not be chilling.
“Where are we going exactly?” Luna asks eventually, voicing the question of the others.
“The spot is in line with the 5th and 6th tree, a simple illusion hides it from the naked eye but for those who know what to look for it’s very obvious,” Malfoy explains. All the Slytherins grin. When they get to the treeline they duck through the trees and out of the clearing. They seemingly fade into nothingness after passing through a shimmering light field. Malfoy goes next, pulling Luna after him by the hand. Harry can’t help but notice how ethereal they both look, their blonde hair glowing in the sun before they disappear. Then, it’s just Ron and Harry. They pass through together, feeling the light tickle of the ward passing over them. Then they’re on the other side of the clearing and the soft rippling sound of the water is legible further along the path. The path isn’t very clear and it’s narrow, covered in ivy and moss but it’s obviously well-used. There are more trees everywhere and they have to duck to avoid branches.
Soon, they emerge through a clearing. It’s on a small ridge next to a stream that runs through looking picturesque and peaceful with the sun shining through in golden beams. It catches on the babbling water beautifully.
The Slytherins have already got to work setting up the space, laying picnic blankets and pulling out food most definitely prepared by the house elves. Ron and Harry sit on the outskirts, despite the strange sense of union between the two groups. Pansy braids Luna’s hair with an unexpected tenderness while Hermione picks daisies that she weaves through. Harry watches Hermione hand over the flowers, her fingers brushing Pansy’s with equal gentleness. It’s interesting, Harry thinks, how the two have clicked.
Before he can ponder it further, Blaise Zabini has sat himself down beside him and Ron, a joint smoking between his fingers. He takes a drag and hands it to Ron who only thinks for a second before throwing caution to the wind and taking it. Harry can almost see the resolve on his face.
“So, bets on whether I can successfully dare Draco to jump in the stream,” He announces, pulling out his little note book, it’s dabbled with lots of scores and little notes and Harry wonders what other bets he’s got in there.
“He’s too posh to get wet, I bet he doesn’t,” Ron mutters through a cough. He hands the joint to Harry and he can hardly refuse. Deftly, he holds it between his fingers and sucks. The smoke is hot and sharp against his throat but not unpleasant. Ron asks Blaise, “What else have you got in that book?”
“I can’t say because it’ll cost you,” Blaise replies cheekily with a wink, “I have plenty of bets you wouldn’t even dream of.”
“Sure you do.”
“There might even be some about you.”
“I doubt it," Ron scoffs.
Greg sits down with them then, handing Blaise another rolled joint to his pleasure, “He definitely does, there’s about 3 for anyone in our year. You’re better off not knowing what he knows about you though.” Then he walks off again, sitting back down with Neville. They’re near the girls, picking out of the picnic basket and passing a joint back with Pansy and Luna. Harry watches Hermione decline the first time it’s offered to her, but on the second round she bites her lip and takes it. He smiles.
“I dunno about this, Zabini,” Ron admits, giving him a glance, “You give me a bad feeling.”
“That’s just my aura,” He says, dismissively, handing Ron the fresh joint, “Think we should play a game? I get bored sitting out here otherwise.”
The pair start discussing a game while Harry watches the scene around him. It’s domestic and peaceful despite the odd bunch. Luna shows Malfoy her hair and he tries his best to look interested, looking more pleased at her happy glow than anything. It makes Harry feel odd, the more he watches them interact. He moves his gaze along to Hermione and Pansy who’ve laid down and taken to watching the clouds move through the sky. They lie close together, fingers brushing. Hmmm, he takes note of that. Then there’s Greg and Neville who have pulled out a bag of what can only be weed and are diligently rolling. When Harry looks for Dean and Seamus he realises he can’t spot them.
“Where’s Dean and Seamus?” He questions, turning back to Ron and Blaise who pause. Ron shrugs but Blaise looks sneaky, pulling out his betting book once again.
“By my calculations…they’ve definitely run off to shag,” He decides, before calling out to Neville, “Longbottom, you owe me two galleons!”
“What?” Neville calls back, before glancing around. He seems to realise the pair who are missing because he laughs, “Shite, you got me again, Zabini!”
“Don’t bet with him, Nev,” Greg warns, “It’s a hopeless cause.”
Blaise just snickers, turning back to Ron, “Anyways, Weasley, did we land on basic and easy Truth or Dare?”
“Sounds about right,” Ron agrees.
Then, to Harry’s horror, he’s being roped into yet another game. This time, though, the drinking has been replaced by smoking as joints are frequently rotating around the circle easing everyone up and giving them drooping eyes. Harry doesn’t immediately feel the effect of the drug, until he does. It happens slowly but all at once. He’s sitting in a circle with his friends and the Slytherins, glancing around when he notices the fog to his vision and the loud beating of his heart. He looks over and spots Malfoy again, who looks equally stoned. He looks up with eyes closed, his jawline sharp as he soaks in the sunshine. Harry swallows and looks away, not liking the stirring emotions in his stomach.
“Ron can start, since he chose the game,” Blaise decides, grabbing one of the drink bottles they’ve brought to use as a spinner. He places it in the middle of the circle and Ron gives it a quick spin. It lands immediately on Neville, “Neville, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Neville decides. Ron dares him to run through the forest screaming for 20 seconds before he’s allowed to come sit down again. Before Neville does the bet, he asks, “What do I have to do if I refuse?”
To which Blaise responds, “A kiss is the punishment and we get to vote who you have to smooch.”
“Alright, screaming like a mad man it is!” Neville decides, getting up and completing the dare. He leaves everyone in fits with his horrified screaming, too dramatic to be anywhere near real and too funny to be reminiscent. Next, Neville spins and lands on Blaise who accepts a dare to reveal one page of his betting book to the group. They all sit forward excitedly and Neville reads out, “Someone will catch Malfoy and Potter either snogging or shagging?” Before bursting into laughter. The others follow suit and Harry meets Malfoy’s eye across the circle once again.
“Who’s got bets on that then, hey?” Malfoy pipes up, snatching the booklet, “I’ll gladly hex them.”
He peers at the page before looking up and making eye contact with Hermione, “Granger? You too? I honestly am lost for words.”
Pansy gasps delightedly, snatching the book from Malfoy, “Hermione, you didn’t tell me you were in this book?” She looks at the page and chuckles, “Oh yeah, we’re going to make bank off this one.”
“Hermione?” Harry questions, feeling oddly betrayed as he meets eyes with a flushed Hermione.
“I’m sorry, Harry! I really am but I was drunk and you know how convincing Blaise can be!” Hermione pleads. Harry shakes his head dismissively and Hermione knows he’s already forgiving her for something so trivial.
“I just can’t believe you placed a bet before me,” Ron exclaims, eying up Pansy and Hermione, “Hand me that book.”
“No!” Blaise says at the same time as Pansy. Their quick responses are met by stunned silence by the rest of the group. Looking woozy, Pansy shoves the book back into Blaise’s hands.
“Let’s finish the game.”
“But I want to see-” Ron tries.
“The game!” Pansy cries and Blaise, obedient for the first time in his life, spins the spinner. It lands on an unimpressed Malfoy who glares at him immediately.
“Truth or dare?” Blaise asks and Malfoy looks stumped.
“I know that either way, this ends with you trying to get me in the stream,” As Malfoy says, Blaise’s smirk turns the tiniest bit sheepish, but he doesn’t retract his question, “Fine, dare.”
“Get in the stream, Posh Knob!” Blaise cries excitedly, “We’ll dry you a warming charm after.”
“No, I will,” Malfoy corrects him, toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his socks too, “You’ll be too busy laughing.” Harry is surprised when Malfoy goes to the edge of the ridge and looks down at the stream suspiciously. There’s a rope swing, but he doesn’t use it. Instead, he positions himself to dive. It’s then that Blaise starts a chant of ‘jump, jump, jump!’ and Malfoy follows through, diving gracefully into the water and disappearing with a satisfying splash. When he breaks the surface, he flicks his hair out of his eyes and screeches, “It’s bloody cold, Zabini you fucker!”
Blaise laughs and so do the others but Harry’s too busy watching Malfoy hoist himself out of the water. He pushes up with his hands, his white shirt clings to him and becomes practically see through from the water sliding off him. Harry hates that he gets a sick little thrill from watching Malfoy emerge from the stream, water pooling at his feet as he snatches up his wand to dry himself. Pansy cackles for the longest but she gets her revenge when Malfoy spins the spinner and it lands on her. She’s the next person to be dared to jump in the stream.
“What! Draco, that’s cruel!” Pansy squeals, “Luna just did my hair!”
Malfoy just shrugs and Blaise butts in to say, “You know what happens when you deny a dare!”
Pansy ends up jumping too, far less gracefully and with a deranged screech as she emerges, shivering and pale. Hermione giggles but offers her a hand to be pulled out. The game continues, but not for long, because every time the spinner is spun it’s another dare for someone to jump in the stream and with the sun setting it’s getting far too cold.
Tiredly, they head back to Hogwarts. This time, Harry and Ron don’t bring up the rear. Ron’s walking with Blaise and Theo, trying desperately to see what else is in the betting book. Hermione still walks with Pansy and Luna but Malfoy’s no longer with them. Harry glances around and see’s he’s not with Dean, Seamus, Greg or Neville either. Harry glances behind him and sees it’s Malfoy bringing up the rear, still trying to charm his hair to stay flat after his jump into the stream. It’s not working and he’s looking increasingly frustrated.
He glances up just as Harry is smirking at him, which only makes him more mad, “What are you looking at, Potter?”
“No need to snap,” Harry replies, trying to match his tone but it comes off too amused.
“Why not? We aren’t friends.”
“I can see why,” Harry rolls his eyes, but he feels his stomach drop strangely. He looks back at all the others talking and looking happy before turning back to Malfoy who’s not so far behind anymore, having given up on his hair, “You’re too stubborn.”
“Me, stubborn? Really?” Malfoy’s sarcasm sets something off in Harry.
“Yes! As much as I try, you never want to make amends,” He snaps, his rage hot and low burning in his stomach. An ember that never goes out and only seems to erupt into flame when a particular blonde is there to press on his buttons.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe we shouldn’t? Far too much has happened, Potter. I don’t want to be your friend, I just want to get through this year. Besides, do you really want Blaise making up more rumors about us shagging?” When Harry feels himself blush, Malfoy snorts, “That’s what I thought.”
“You’re impossible, Malfoy, truly,” Harry retorts, searching for something to bite back with, “I bet those rumors are because of you anyways, Blaise is your friend, what does he know that I don’t?”
“Might I recall that it was you who was watching me walk out of the bathroom in my towel last night and also you who had to stare me down while I was coming out of the stream just now,” Malfoy gives him a firm look with his grey eyes and Harry finds he has nowhere to hide, “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“What’s this about a towel, Malfoy?” Theodore interrupts them from the front of the group. Harry looks away from Malfoy to see that everyone is watching them interestedly. Ron looks a little green and Hermione’s expression is worried.
“They’re having a lovers quarrel, Theo, mind your own business!” Pansy giggles.
“Shut your mouth, Parkinson, or I’ll remember the blackmail I have against you,” Malfoy seethes. Harry’s surprised when Pansy immediately quietens and sends a slight glance in Hermione’s direction. What does Malfoy know that Harry doesn’t, and does it align with the suspicions growing in Harry’s own mind?
“We’re at the apparition point,” Blaise announces next, “Can you all stop giving me more evidence for my betting book and cooperate?”
Harry’s glad when they’re back and he can hide away in his dorm. He’s also happy that Malfoy doesn’t come back, which gives him a chance to start the diary that Hermione had suggested. It seems like a no-brainer as he begins writing, his thoughts emerging on the page and ridding his head of his flurry of worry that swirls around endlessly. Surprisingly, he’s able to sleep well even though many questions still litter his mind unanswered.