Two Houses (HarryxDraco)

Chapter 41

Although Draco never divulged the particulars of his brief conversation with Dennis, whatever he said must have left a lasting impression. Harry noticed that the young Gryffindor, somewhat tentatively at first, began to take a more active role during rehearsals. He even seemed to be making an effort at memorising his lines, which considering they were mere days away from the big performance was a relief to everyone.

He wasn't the only one feeling the weight of what was expected of them. With so little time before the big performance, preparations seemed to take over their every waking hour. Hermione carried a well-worn copy of the script wherever she went, scribbling notes in the margins about 'improvements' that could be made to everything from dialogue and choreography to the props and make-up. Pansy looked exhausted and flustered as she made the final touches to everyone's costumes, her fingertips red and sore from sewing everything the Muggle way. Even Ron had stopped complaining about missing out on the Quidditch friendlies and, on more than one occasion, Harry had even been woken in the middle of the night to hear him reciting his lines in his sleep.

As if the upcoming production wasn't stressful enough already, Professor McGonagall announced a week before the big performance was due to take place that, as well as the villagers from Hogsmeade, parents and guardians would also be permitted to attend. This sent everyone involved—Liv included—into a blind panic, as they now had twice as many spectators to entertain, or potentially to disappoint.

Yes, everyone was panicking. Everyone, except for Harry.

He wasn't afraid to admit that he was a little nervous about performing in front of a large crowd of people, but he was confident that it would be a walk in the park compared to spending months on the run and fighting for his life against dark wizards. Besides, he had other, more pressing matters in mind. Namely, his boyfriend, who had grown increasingly moody since they had returned to Hogwarts.

He and Draco sat side by side on his bed with the curtains drawn for privacy as they ran through their scenes together one last time before calling it a night. Draco, however, was more distracted than usual, constantly losing his place and forgetting his lines. When he missed his cue for act one scene five for the third time, he snarled in frustration, tossed the script onto the bed and screamed into one of Harry's cushions.

"Urgh, I can't do this!" his muffled voice despaired.

"Yes, you can," Harry assured him calmly. "And you will."

"I can't and I won't!" Draco insisted. "I'm going to screw this up and be the laughing stock of the whole school."

Harry sighed and lowered his script onto his lap. "That's not going to happen."

"How would you know?" Draco snapped, pulling the pillow away from his face so that he could glower at Harry. "Been getting insights from that quack, Trelawney? Because that old fraud couldn't divine her way out of a paper bag if her life depended on it!"

"There's no denying that," he snorted. "Look, even if tomorrow is a total disaster, who cares? It's one day out of our entire lives."

Draco scoffed. "Easy for you to say, everyone already thinks you're infallible! Saint bloody Potter who can do no wrong. You could march out onto that stage and spout any old nonsense and you'd still get a standing ovation. Well, unfortunately the rest of us don't have the luxury of being admired by the masses."

A stab of annoyance rose up inside of Harry then. "So, we've reverted back to insulting me to make you feel better about yourself?"

"Only because you're being insufferably cool, calm and collected about this whole situation," Draco grumbled. He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest, looking miserable. "I suppose that I should be grateful that no one of great importance will be in the audience to see me make an absolute fool of myself."