𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐎

Part 8

Part Eight

He tells Draco about Susan Bones back in his office, and they make a plan for Harry to talk to Iris about it once she wakes up. Apparently, Draco tells him sadly, she hasn't taken well to the stronger dampener, and has spent more time unconscious than not since they'd administered it. Draco looks so disheartened by this that Harry decides to forgo bringing up his earlier proposal again and instead prods him towards the Lab.

"Go on, you heard Snape," he tells him firmly. "You can do this, Draco—I didn't think he was even capable of being encouraging, and I'm still trying to figure out where a portrait gets off talking to you like you're a first year again."

Draco perks up and puts his fight face on, hurrying towards his door. However, he stops for a moment and looks back at Harry with an odd sort of smile. "Okay. I'll help you look at flats on Thursday, if you'd like. Merlin knows you'll need help—you can't be a respected Mediwizard and live in a hovel, Harry, I won't allow it."

Smiling brilliantly, Harry follows Draco out of the office and fights down on the urge to skip. It's not a yes—it's not a promise, or acceptance, or anything sure. But it's enough for him to hope again, to praise Hermione and the only plans that work, and suddenly things seem much brighter.

His sunny mood follows into the next day, and so of course fate decides to do everything it can to ruin it.

First thing he sees in the morning is Ginny and Zacharias having a spectacular row in front of Station One—a row that is most definitely about him.

"Ah, here's Saint Potter now, then," Zacharias sneers as Harry joins them. "I don't know what you want me around here for, Potter can surely do anything I can—"

"Harry doesn't have anything to do with the fact that you won't do your job!" Ginny insists, looking angrier than Harry has ever seen her. Wisps of red hair are falling out of her ponytail, and she looks infuriated and upset, so much so that Harry just piles on to his own hatred of Smith. "Or at least, he

shouldn't. Zach, you can't do this, you're going to ruin everything—"

"Oh bugger off, Gin, I'm sick of feeling like an idiot."

"Then stop acting like one!" she screams, and suddenly throws a chart at him. He ducks and stares at her incredulously for a minute, before turning and storming off down the hallway. She makes a terrible, choked growl and puts her forehead in her palms, and when Harry touches her shoulder tentatively, she looks up and he's shocked to see tears in her eyes.

"Ginny?"

"I can't stand him," Ginny says harshly, and she grabs another chart and throws that, too. "He's so—so stupid! We've worked together for years, since before Draco had even heard of this floor, and he's going to ruin it all for someone who doesn't even love him back."

The ever present audience is there, watching Ginny's mini-breakdown with a mix of intrigue and sympathy, and Harry huddles protectively over her and glares at them in the Draco way that usually makes them back off. It just makes them whisper, though, not even bothering to cup their hands over their mouths and hide it, and Harry quickly reassesses the fact that he wants to work here permanently.

"Gin, I'm sorry, I—"

"No fraternizing in the workplace, you two," Draco drawls from down the hall, and Harry jerks away from Ginny instinctively, infuriating her further. She grabs up a third chart and hurls it at Draco, meeting her mark beautifully—parchment whips into blond hair with a smack and he stands still, shocked. "What—"

"Go to hell, Draco," Ginny snaps, and then she storms off in the direction Zacharias had gone. Draco stares after her, hair askew, surrounded by the scattered bits of the chart he'd been attacked with, and then looks at Harry, who shrugs helplessly.