Harry Potter x Reader
In which a young witch struggles with her developing feelings for her best friend
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"I have loved you for years Harry- it's why I drank the poison, its why I pushed you out of the way of...
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Malfoy didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harry's opinion, as though he were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle. Harry also swore he saw Malfoy try to get Y/n's attention multiple times, failing miserably as every time he'd tried, Y/n found it in her better interests to spark up a conversation with Maia, Fawn or Harry.
"How is it, Draco?" simpered Pansy Parkinson, evidentially irritated by the way he was trying to gain Y/n's attention. "Does it hurt much?"
"Yeah," said Malfoy, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harry saw him wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had looked away and he'd seemingly been sure Y/n was distracted by Maia (although had he been paying attention, he would have known the two best friends were mocking him to see who could get Fawn, Hermione or Harry to laugh first- Y/n won).
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly. Harry and Ron scowled at each other; Snape wouldn't have said "settle down" if they'd walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything in Snape's classes; Snape was head of Slytherin House, and generally favoured his own students above all others- with the exception of Gaia, of whom he seemed to hold in serious distaste, and according to Y/n, her cousin Maddy was not held in the highest regard either.
They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table, Y/n, Maia and Fawn were sitting on the table next to them with Gaia.
"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"
"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," said Snape without looking up. Ron went brick red.
"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.
Malfoy smirked across the table. "Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots." Ron seized his knife, pulled Malfoy's roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.
"Professor," drawled Malfoy, "Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."
Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.
"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley."
"But sir—!" Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces.
"Now," said Snape in his most dangerous voice. Ron shoved his own beautifully cut roots across the table at Malfoy, then took up the knife again.
"And, sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Malfoy, his voice full of malicious laughter.
