Redemption | Drarry

10: Lucky Break (Edited)

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Draco saw a faint trail of smoke curling around him, soft and slow like mist rolling through a valley. His fingers stilled in Ingrid's fur as his eyes snapped up, searching the darkness around him. A flicker of panic flared in his chest-was this some kind of attack?

But then, he noticed where the smoke was coming from.

Him.

Draco frowned, watching the delicate strands of white mist drift lazily from his own body. He turned to Ingrid, half-expecting her to be alarmed, but the small fox didn't even bother opening her eyes.

"Don't worry it is well within the process," she murmured, voice smooth and unbothered. "Lure. Can be a bitch when trying to find true love."

Draco stared at her blankly.

The words echoed in his mind before Ingrid continued, as if she could sense his confusion.

'Lure is a skill only possessed by a few people. It has the ability to lure, as the name indicates, people into a sense of comfort and longing toward you. This skill was at first used for self-defense, but that didn't go well. So now, it provides any purpose one desires.'

Draco's eye twitched. Great. Fantastic. Another thing to deal with.

He exhaled sharply, fingers rubbing at his temple. "And how do you suppose I stop this?"

Ingrid finally cracked one eye open, giving him the unimpressed look only a fox could manage. 'Just think of plugging tiny corks into your pores. That atta do it.'

Draco stared.

"Corks," he repeated flatly.

Ingrid didn't respond. She was already curling deeper into herself, clearly done with this conversation.

Draco rolled his eyes but did as she instructed, focusing on the strange sensation of magic trickling out of him. Slowly, the mist dissipated, until the air around him was clear once more.

He let out a relieved breath before glancing up at the sky. It looks late. Better head back.

Draco nudged Ingrid gently, signaling her to move, before dusting off his clothes. Just as he turned toward the stairs, a rustling sound came from his right.

His body tensed, head snapping in the direction of the noise.

Nothing.

The wind, maybe?

Draco narrowed his eyes but, seeing nothing unusual, shook it off and left the tower.

//////

Harry let out a quiet breath as Draco's footsteps faded down the stairs. He stayed perfectly still, heart still pounding from the overwhelming haze of magic that had settled over him earlier.

What the hell was that?

He pressed a hand to his chest, willing his breathing to slow. Even now, something inside him still felt-off. The storm that had been raging inside him for weeks had suddenly calmed the moment that mist touched him.

It was like he had been suffocating, and Draco had unknowingly handed him air.

Harry clenched his jaw, forcing himself to move. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, slipping through the corridors unnoticed as he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

Whatever this was, he'd figure it out later. Right now, he needed sleep. And he definitely did not want to be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Especially not with Snape leading.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about Snape teaching DADA. On one hand, he wasn't Umbridge, which was a significant upgrade. On the other hand, he was still Snape.

///////////
Harry had to admit-Snape's explanation of Nonverbal Spells was actually impressive. He hated to think it, but the man clearly knew his stuff.

Not that Harry was about to make eye contact with him. Absolutely not. He wasn't ready to deal with the possible consequences of Snape recognizing... whatever this new part of him was.

So he kept his head down, focused on his work, and before he knew it, class was over.

Technically, it was lunchtime.

Realistically, Hadrian had no interest in eating right now.

After what had happened last night, he was feeling better. Not completely normal, but the suffocating tension in his chest had eased. His thoughts weren't tangled, and he could breathe without feeling like something was clawing at his insides.

Whatever that weird mist had done, it had helped.

Not that he planned on telling anyone. But he knew if he ever had a chance at leaving this school in one peace, that mist was the key.

Instead of heading to the Great Hall, he wandered the corridors, avoiding the usual stares and unwanted conversations. He needed to think.

...Which, in hindsight, was probably why he didn't realize how much time had passed until he checked the clock.

"Ugh, damn it-"

He turned on his heel and bolted toward the dungeons. Potions was next, and unlike Snape, the teacher was not all that strict when it came to him, but he didn't need favouritism right now, he needed sleep.

Harry slid into the classroom just as Slughorn was entering, heart still hammering from the run. He quickly scanned the room and, seeing no other available seats, dropped into his usual spot.

Right beside Draco Malfoy.

Draco didn't even glance at him. Not surprising.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Slughorn clapped his hands together.

"Now, now! Let's get to work, my dears!"

Slughorn went on about the dangers of Amortentia, and Harry only half-listened, making a mental note to have a proper conversation with Hermione later.

Then, Justine Britnell, one of the Ravenclaws, pointed to the smallest cauldron at the front of the room. "Professor, what's that one?"

Slughorn beamed. "Ah, that, my dear, is Felix Felicis!"

Hermione gasped, eyes widening. "Liquid luck," she whispered. "It makes you lucky."

Hadrian noticed several students perk up at that. Some of them were now very interested in the lesson.

Slughorn grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. "Which is why I have a little challenge for you all!" He gestured to the cauldrons. "Whoever makes the most impressive attempt at the Draught of Living Death shall win a small vial of Felix Felicis!"

Chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos.

Students scrambled for their books, flipping pages wildly. Hadrian, Hermione, and Draco, however, took their time.

By the end of the lesson, their potions were the most successful, but Hadrian's was the best.

Hadrian blinked down at the potion, equal parts surprised and curious.

"Brilliant work, my boy!" Slughorn beamed, handing him the small vial.

Draco, sitting beside him, looked as calm as ever, but if Harry wasn't paying attention at that moment he wouldn't have noticed the little twitch in Malfoy's eye.

Hadrian, however, barely noticed. His attention had caught on something else-something strange.

His book.

There, in elegant cursive on the front cover, were the words:

This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes.

How had he never seen that? Looks like this Half-Blood Prince knew what he was doing more than the person who wrote the book seeing as he wrote his thoughts on the margins of the book, with several cancellations on the texts.

Something was definitely going on.