Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

CHAPTER 33 - THE CABINET

TW: Manipulation; No one actively self-harms, but the thought of a bloody arm might be triggering.

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Overnight, Draco changed who he was, how he thought, and what he did.

Draco Malfoy was no longer Draco Malfoy: he was a martyr for Harry's cause, under disguise to even Harry himself. And to do that, he had to do horrible things.

He no longer allowed himself any spare time outside of classes, and classes were no longer the priority.

By morning, he was no longer a member of the Slytherin Quidditch Team; he was no longer a Prefect, and he was no longer allowed to hang out with Blaise and Pansy, who disagreed when he told them. He would have done the same with Harry if Harry wasn't Harry Potter.

The bond he had with Harry was now a nuisance. If he had a thought about Harry, he attached it to the bond, making it its own parasite in Draco's body, begging for attention. He didn't love Harry. His bond loved Harry and was bothering him about it. The bond wasn't his own thoughts.

If he had a few spare seconds in between chanting the incantation, he would ask himself, would he still be in love with Harry if he didn't have the bond? but he never had the time to answer.

He didn't have the time to say hi to Harry (a.k.a. sneer) at breakfast because he didn't go to breakfast. Instead, he stayed in the Room of Requirement until the bell rang, leaving with strained eyes and magic exhausted.

Merlin, he needed Harry's Felix Felices.

When he went to potions, he barely paid attention. He only went to get ingredients from the storage closet on command from Blaise. What used to be a calculated measure to meet Harry in the storage closet was now a brainless mistake.

"Forget about me," Harry asked, with a few vials in his hand. They hadn't seen each other since the whole bond incident. Draco raised an eyebrow and then he realized it was Tuesday. Which meant he missed their date on Friday. "I tried mailing you. You never answered. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Draco said. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you on Friday."

"But—"

"We'll talk later, okay." Draco grabbed hold of his ingredients and left without even looking at him.

He did his best to focus on the task at hand. Lost in thought, he didn't put in his dragon scales like he was supposed to, and his Shrinking Solution did nothing.

However, Harry's shrunk a toad into the size of a grain of rice, and Harry won a new stirring stick. It was apparently from the late Anubis, a potions master of Egypt. Draco'd admired the legend when he was thirteen, when life allowed him to admire someone. He invented the Shrinking Solution. Then Draco remembered, he once had a dream to be a potions master when he grew older. And then anger filled him, because that would never happen and he wasn't allowed to have dreams anymore.

When he began packing up his notes, Draco found a small piece of parchment in his bag, scribbled on by Pansy's handwriting.

Don't change too much or he'll notice and become suspicious of you.

Draco looked up at Pansy. "I don't have time," he mouthed, throwing his things in his bag. He immediately set out to work on the cabinet instead of Transfiguration, but Harry grabbed him in the hallway, pulling him into their usual broom cupboard.

"Another perfect potion again," Draco sneered. "I'm sure you're pleased with yourself."

"Yeah," Harry furrowed his brows. "I mean, I brewed it... Are you okay?"