Their truce lasted all of six days.
Neither Harry nor Draco intended to fight again, it just happened naturally. You see, Draco had just breezed through the doors of the library after skimming an infuriating letter from his father. He needed fresh air, needed a distraction from the tears welling behind his eyes. As he was walking, he spotted Harry alone in the corridor, his dark eyebrow lifted in an unspoken question.
Draco's wandering thoughts and swirling agitation found a place to focus, and that place was Harry Potter's face.
Harry was meandering through the castle, no clear plan in mind. He only wished to escape the sympathetic looks his best friends kept shooting his way now that his scar caused him grief nearly every day. As he rounded a corner, he spotted Draco heading in his direction. Now, Harry had been the one to propose an end to their arguing, but upon seeing the anger marring Malfoy's smooth face, his heart jumped into his throat. The mild headache began bursting with colors behind his eyes.
He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on that git's body. He was vaguely aware of the blood roiling about his head, of the adrenaline flooding his limbs. Mostly, he was aware of Draco drifting towards him.
Ten feet.
Five feet.
One.
He let himself be backed into the wall, Draco's palms pressed into his chest.
An exhale. Green eyes meeting a churning grey.
"You drive me mad," hurled at the inches between them.
"Absolutely barking." The words were intended as harsh but Harry's voice came out as little more than a whisper.
Moments later, Draco's fist found a home in Harry's sternum. They scuffled about until Flitwick stumbled upon them. He cast a spell that froze both students and clucked his disapproval. Ensuring they could still hear, but were unable to move, he spoke, "Twenty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Are either of you hurt?"
A pause before he returned their ability to speak.
"Well, I wouldn't be if this daft brute-"
"Oh, save it Malfoy, you started-"
"Answer the question or I'll deduct more than twenty." Bitten words that fell in the hushed hallway.
"No, sir"
"And you, mister Potter?"
"I'm alright professor"
"In that case, I never saw this. I suggest you head your separate ways," though phrased as a recommendation, it was clear this was an order. His beady eyes watched as each young man turned and headed off in opposite directions. Flitwick placed one hand on his forehead in exasperation, only those two. The one thing preventing him from heading to the staff lounge to spread the gossip was knowing Minerva would have their heads. And he was rather fond of the Malfoy boy, insufferable as he was.
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Ron gave him a questioning look as he plopped down onto the couch next to him. Hermione mirrored his expression from the armchair closest to the fire. Harry knew if he didn't speak soon, they would bombard him with questions about the welt developing on his cheek, about the catch in his side he felt as he inhaled.
"Malfoy," he muttered, glancing down at his hands.
"Mate, again?"
"Harry! You cannot keep resorting to violence with him, it's barbaric!" Hermione sounded particularly distressed as the words flew out of her mouth.
YOU ARE READING
Playing with Fire
Fanfiction"My father will hear about this, Potter" "Well, mine sure as hell won't," the words escaped his throat in a growl before he extracted his hands from Draco's collar and aimed a quickly formed fist at that pompous nose. _______________________________...
