School Exchange (Drarry) ✓

Chapter 8

Viktor Krum didn't bother Draco anymore from that day. No one mentioned him around Draco, it was as if he became invisible. On the other hand, Harry continued to hug him to sleep, which he found great joy in doing. Over the week Draco told him about the nightmares he got at night and how Harry helped with them.

Eventually, Draco was back on track with the school curriculum. By that, Harry meant that he was thriving, and maybe giving Hermione a bit of a headache seeing as her position as the best student in class was never contested before.

During one study session (when Harry could leech on Draco for answers while he tried to give an explanation and Hermione ticked him off none-too-subtly), Draco brought Parkinson and Zabini to their table as well. Ron made a weird face at the Slytherins, who rolled their eyes but surprisingly, stayed quiet.

"You guys are weird. We're struggling students all the same." Draco said. "How do you all consistently decide which quarter of the school to be friends with, based off a single hat?"

"There's a lot of things you don't know about." Hermione sighed while glaring at the 2 Slytherins.

"And if we knew everything, we would be able to solve all the problems in the world. Then, there wouldn't be a need for coming to school." He hummed. "By the way, Cedric invited all of us to the Hufflepuff table for dinner."

"How did you even..." Parkinson looked at him in disbelief. "Nevermind."

Draco smiled, pointing to a line of Harry's answers that was conspicuously similar to one of the textbook paragraphs.

"You spelt 'blatta pulvereus' wrong." Draco told him gently. "For question 4, the intermediate step produces an acidic solution." Harry nodded along stupidly, waiting for his explanation which came not a second later. "Because of the reaction between sopophorous beans and thaumatagoria, the pH lowers significantly."

"Mhm..."

"The method of procedure you suggested only works for basic solutions as the product."

"Oh." Harry, embarrassed more at the fact that Draco was once again pointing out his mistakes rather than making the mistake itself, couldn't utter much more than that one syllable. Or perhaps it was the way Draco's arm brushed against his own while trying to explain the mechanisms of some potion concepts that he didn't really bother with understanding. Instead, he blindly copied everything Draco said, without processing, nodding along as if he was getting anything. It wasn't even easy to keep his eyes on the sea of words, with Draco in such close proximity.

Finally, Draco has (somewhat) successfully explained his way through the whole potions worksheet, he exchanged answers for the transfigurations practice paper with Parkinson and moved on to a calm debate with Hermione about some arithmancy problem, continuing to chatter all the way down to the great hall for dinner. And, yet again, Draco never failed to impress Harry with finding yet another person to talk to- this time Fleur, the Beauxbaton champion that Ron had been ogling over. Not that he understood a single thing he was saying, the fluent French that flowed like honey from his rosy pink lips. Whatever it was made the group of Beauxbaton girls laugh, though.

Draco did tell them about sitting at the Hufflepuff table together with other people. What he failed to mention was the fact that he invited literally everyone to the Hufflepuff table, going as far as to charm it so more people could squeeze in. Surprisingly, or not, no professor had stepped in to break it up. Only Krum and his few friends glared over, towards the back of Draco's head while he continued to engage in more discussion.

"Oi, Potter." Parkinson called after dinner, with an arm casually slung over Zabini's shoulder. She put her other arm around his neck, and the 2 somewhat dragged him up the stairs while she started to snicker, "You may as well have transfigured you're famous scar into a 'I am so gay for Draco Malfoy' tattoo. Need you be so obvious about liking our poor little friend."

"Even an idiot with lesser intellect than Crabbe and poorer eyesight than yourself would've arrived at the same conclusion." Zabini added with a smirk. "You two are already in the same dorm, same bed. What are you waiting for, another bloke to come pick him off? Or for him to return to Durmstrang so you can slowly reflect on your disappointing lack of action? Or-"

"Alright, I got it!" Harry screamed, partially annoyed and partially flustered. However, he quickly dulled down to a mere mumble, "I don't even know how to... he doesn't know..."

"Oh trust me, Draco's smarts are exceeding Granger's. You know she only makes it up with insane amounts of hard work." Parkinson chirped.

"But..."

"But...?"

"You know, Viktor Krum..."

"Listen real close, Potter, alright? You're a lot shorter, less muscle, and your hair's a screw-up, but you're not too bad on the eyes." Zabini said. "And well, if there should be another incident, let's just say Draco wouldn't be at a serious disadvantage."

"You put one strand of his pretty hair out of place, though, and we wouldn't hesitate to ruin you. Got that?" Parkinson grinned, ruffling Harry's already disheveled hair. That was when Harry realised they were already at the doors of the astronomy classroom. Parkinson lets go and sashays off with Zabini, dropping ceremoniously into the seat beside Draco which he saved for them. Harry, for a lack of a better response, crawled into the seat beside Ron and took out his textbooks for lesson.