Remember when I loved you-drarry story

Chapter 12

The very next morning, Harry readily woke up earlier than usual and headed down to the dungeons. Almost restlessly, he observed as Slytherins poured out of their common room one by one, chatting and gossiping in subdued tones as they collectively sallied forth to the Great Hall for breakfast. More than a few glanced at Harry curiously, but none dared to say anything.

Eagerly, Harry's gaze darted all over, and he craned his neck to see past the flurry of groggy, heavy-eyed students, searching desperately for a mere glimpse of platinum blond hair without much success for many minutes. Unfortunately, Draco was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, when every single Slytherin student had exited one after another and cleared out the entire pathway, Harry began to fearfully worry. He paced back and forth, staring at the bare stretch of wall which led to the Slytherin common room — but not without a password.

The cold stone passageway was dark and eerily silent, and several torches had yet to be lit. The ones that had been ignited lacked intensity and flickered very feebly, making him squint his eyes and frown at the dreary, fluttering shadows on the stone floor.

A door suddenly opened, and Harry almost jumped, whirling around earnestly to see Draco walking out silently, looking weary and ill, with his normally neat hair all untidy and unkempt, and his face wholly withered.

"Draco," he blurted, stepping forward.

Draco stilled on the spot and slowly looked up, his expression surprised. "Harry," he said, blinking repeatedly. "What are you doing here?"

Harry bit his lip hesitantly. "I . . . Well, I took the job over from Zabini," he disclosed with some reluctance, wondering if he was overstepping any unknown boundaries. "From today onwards, I'll walk you to the Great Hall for meals, and to all your classes, too."

Draco stared at him for some time, looking slightly shocked. "Ah," he said eventually. "I . . . I see."

Harry felt oddly anxious. "Will you let me? I — if it makes you uncomfortable, I can leave and call Zabini —"

"No!" said Draco quickly, startling Harry. Then, his eyes widened, and he pursed his lips tightly, looking a little embarrassed. "No, I mean, I just . . . no, you're not making me uncomfortable."

Harry nodded, feeling something flutter in his stomach. "Okay," he whispered. "Thank you."

Draco nodded awkwardly, and they both lingered in the middle of the damp, shadowy dungeon, staring at each other uneasily.

Finally, Draco looked away. "Right. We — we are already late for breakfast, so . . ."

"Oh, right," croaked Harry, springing forward to stand beside Draco and holding out an arm. "Erm, so, you can just —"

An anticipation-filled silence echoed through Harry's head, making him almost dizzy with yearning, as Draco grasped onto his arm, leaning against him. His chest flooded with limitless love and longing and relief, and his heart thumped strongly against his ribcage.

Quietly, without exchanging a single word, they walked up the stone steps and into the Entrance Hall, heading to the doorway which led to the Great Hall wordlessly. Draco's face was unreadable, but his movements were highly awkward. One thing was perfectly clear; they were both far too nervous and tense.

There was something between them now — some unfamiliarity and tension and self-consciousness which didn't exist previously. However, Harry didn't let it bother him. After all, they had decided to start all over again. Some awkwardness was natural, and he wouldn't let it affect him.

"Draco," said Harry abruptly.

Draco's eyes were unfocused, and he appeared to be deep in thought as he said absently, "Yeah?"