Chapter Text
Harry sleepwalked through the next three days, speaking distractedly to Hermione, and no one else. Every night Harry had dreamt of Draco, sweet, pleasant dreams that, each time, dipped into a deep wrongness. Either through violence or... something else.
He found these dreams spilling into his waking hours. He would be staring off into space, his notebook blank but his mind anything but.
With his head lost in fields with a boy who hated him, he was distracted and distant. Hermione took this as intentional, and worried for their friendship as well. What had SHE done, though?
Meanwhile, Draco finally found peace in being alone. Pansy had "moved on" and in the last three days had managed to produce a rebound. Her boytoy was none other Edward Gartlesby, the dealer. He was ridiculously smug about the whole thing, loudly exclaiming that he was, "The King of Slytherin" for managing to get with the most popular Slytherin girl, not just in their year either.
He apparently ignored "The Queen"'s furtive glances at Draco, to see if he was watching, whenever they kissed.
Draco wished he could ignore them.
Occasionally, he would think about Harry Potter, who had some furtive glances of his own. He wondered what Harry thought of him. He didn't really care, but he would sort of like to know. Did he believe Pansy? That he was tragically alone, and needed rescuing?
Likely, he hated him.
Still Draco couldn't help but notice that Harry spoke less and less to Granger, and not at all to Weasley. He could understand the former, but Weasley? He wondered what could have come between them. He grinned a little. Lover's quarrel.
He was leaning against the balcony above a bustling hallway, looking down. A Hufflepuff couple giggled beside him, and two Ravenclaws sat behind him, against the wall, clearly stoned out of their minds. Oh, the Hogwarts underbelly. He watched the top of Harry's head as it weaved through the hallway. He was by himself. A ways behind him, the Weasel's fire-red hair boobed along, next to Longbottom. He couldn't even think of a mean nickname for him, that last name was so bad. They appeared to be in an uncomfortable discussion. Weasel's ears were red.
"Hey~" One of the Ravenclaws whispered. "You. Slytherin. Dickface, yeah." Draco turned around. They were giggling.
"No, no, Emily, stop-" The guy hissed. They might have been a girl, actually. There neck was almost at a right angle, because of the way they were slumped.
"This dumbass had a fat crush on Hermione Granger,"
"Nooooooo-" Came from the slump.
"Okay," Draco said, already uninterested. He expected every Ravenclaw was in love with Hermione Granger. "That's rough?" He said.
"Yeah, cuz of her an' Harry Potter, but but but- this IDIOT-"
"Because of what?" Draco cut the girl off. He did not care about what That Idiot had done, but he did want to know about her and Harry Potter.
"Oh? Because he went an' TOLD-"
"No, about Harry Potter?"
"Oh yeah, they're totally doing it and everyone knows, haha, an' Taylor tol' her-"
Draco turned and walked away, ignoring it as they shouted after him, and then dissolved into giggles.
Harry Potter was with Hermione Granger. Firstly, he didn't believe it because it came from two people who had likely not had a single "wit beyond measure' left in their heads.
Secondly, because he didn't want to. He found it strange that he had an opinion at all, and a little disturbing. Still, he wouldn't believe it, or even think about it again.
But- remember how Hermione had come with Harry, that day, outside...?
No. You don't care, don't think about it.
He took a Herbology class with Hufflepuff, before deciding that was enough class for the day and finding a bathroom to crash out in. Since Gartlesby had become the center of attention, Draco had taking to inflicting minor wounds on his arms and hands to get meds from Pomfrey.
He couldn't do it to often, but a magic healing potion was much more convenient than Muggle solutions.
Recently, it was two long burns down his left forearm that was to thank for the peace of mind. It had taken him a while to figure out which kind couldn't just be magicked away. Pulling himself up unto the sink, taking three or four burning sips, and leaning his head back against the mirror were all he wanted to do. He did.
It was nice to be alone.
But for some reason, he couldn't enjoy it. He opened his eyes back up. Why did he care so much if they were dating? Dating at Hogwarts was stupid anyway. It didn't mean anything. Even if it did, even if Harry and Granger were in the happiest, most fulfilling relationship, even if they were future Husband and Wife, and were bound two have a thousand Half-Blooded brats- Draco should not give a sh*t.
But, they're not in a fulfilling relationship, are they? Because they hate each other? Well, no not hate each other, but still. They haven't been talking for like, a week! So there's now ay they're dating.
Draco leaned back again, closing his eyes.
But. But then again. Could they just be having a lovers quarrel, but for real? A spat, as they say?
But why? He couldn't think of any other reason than him. Of course, that was the most selfish and conceited thing eve, but still. He knew he would be pretty pissed at his boyfriend if he had acted the way Harry had, following him around after, like a schoolgirl with their first kiss.
That was it. Draco couldn't stand not knowing. The idea had been planted in his mind and he couldn't let it go. Who did he know that could confirm?
Not a lot of people, to be honest. Then, he realised:
Pansy.
