why so tense, potter? | drarry |

| 12 |

Draco followed Harry out the classroom, keeping his distance so as not to be caught. Harry's wild hair wasn't hard to pick out from the crowd of wizards and witches.

He watched as Harry waved goodbye to Ron and continued down an empty hall. Draco's dress shoes reluctantly clicked against the rough stone floor, producing an echo. But Harry didn't check behind him.

Draco timed the lunge perfectly, casting his wand forward at the same time as the potion levitated out of Harry's deep pocket and into Draco's other hand.

He turned and walked away, each freeing step allowing his anxious thoughts to roll off his back. The potion was small in his hands, and the glass smooth against his skin. He traced it with his thumb and watched how the light refracted through the clear liquid.

"Malfoy!" Draco stopped in his tracks. He heard footsteps gain speed, running faster towards him. "Malfoy, stop!"

Draco began to walk quickly, until he had to break into a run as Harry neared his heels. He heard the unmistakable sound of rustling robes.

"Arresto Momentum!" Harry cast the spell at Draco. Its magic streamed towards his back, but Draco deflected it with ease before turning a sharp corner.

Harry had stopped. At least, that's what Draco thought. He couldn't hear any footsteps behind him. Maybe he had lost him at the turn, swept away by the crowd.

Draco brought his gaze forward to meet Harry's before skidding to the ground. His back slammed against the floor.

"Agh!" Draco cried out. Harry stood above him, pointing his wand down at Draco's prone body.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted.

Draco's wand flew out of his grip. He smirked up at Harry, trying to hide his pain.

"Aw, now that's a shame. What would happen if you were to use magic again? Perhaps I would," Draco paused for effect, "smash the bottle?"

Harry's eyes widened at the threat. A bead of sweat dropped from his hair and to his forehead. "You wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't. But I'd rather it be in my possession than in yours, so I guess I would," Draco replied. He hovered the glass bottle over the ground.

When Harry made no sign of moving, Draco pushed himself up from the floor. He rubbed his back as he stood. Harry kept a weary eye on him as he bent to grab his wand.

"You don't want to mess with me," Draco warned. He stepped closer to Harry, until their noses were nearly touching.

"I'm not scared of you," Harry spat back. A war took place between their stares.

"You better be. I'm capable of more than you think." Draco hovered his wand near Harry's waist. Harry bristled. "Stupefy!"

Draco watched with a sneer as Harry became as motionless as a statue. He brushed his ear as he leaned forward.

"Why so tense, Potter?" Draco whispered. The boy stared back with glazed over eyes.

With that, Draco flipped his wand in the air and caught it in one fluid motion. He walked away, but a coil of guilt unfurled in his stomach.

"Rennervate," he muttered beneath his breath, before becoming lost in the crowd.

                                        ***

Draco sat on his bed in the Slytherin Common Room, his head hung in disbelief. He stared at two empty palms. "How-"

He thought back to his interaction with Harry. His mind reeled as he tried to remember any point in which he might have lost the Liquid Luck.

That's when it hit him. The moment Draco bent to grab his wand. Harry's eyes weren't on Draco — they were on the potion gleaming from inside his pocket.

Draco imagined the wordless levitation spell pulling the potion out of his pocket without any notice or sound. Harry must have been holding it in his pocket when Draco Stupefied him.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Of course that's how it happened. His father always said his weakness was arrogance.

A bit hypocritical coming from him, Draco thought.

A leather-bound book sat on Draco's nightstand. It wasn't anything he wanted to open, but its binding felt nostalgic as Draco reached out and traced his fingertips along its spine. He kept his journal at Hogwarts, never to be opened until the next year. Well, he supposed it was the next year. He brought it over to his lap and opened it.

His handwriting was much worse from last year. The pages were filled with scribbles and hardly legible cursive. He scanned his notes with a grimace. Who did he think he was?

Draco closed the journal with a slam and threw it back onto the nightstand. He kept his dark green curtains closed; everyone knew not to mess with Lucius Malfoy's son. The Dark Mark peeked out from his sleeve. His eyes immediately caught on the black ink.

He traced the engraved mark. Suddenly, Voldemort's mission flashed through Draco's mind. He was facing Dumbledore, his wand drawn.

"I have to do this," Draco cried. A lump formed in his throat. "I have to."

Draco said the words. But instead of Dumbledore falling to his death, it was Draco who did.

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A/N:

I really need to start updating this story at a set time.

When would you like me to publish new chapters??

Also, I've been reading abt Helena Bonham Carter and I'm literally in love. She just makes me want to be authentic and embrace who I am, which is really a universal message.

Be who your soul craves to be, loves.

ig Draco could use that message too ~

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