LABYRINTH of HEARTS (DRARRY Romance)

MEMORY VIAL 30: LUPIN'S LETTER (YEAR 5)

After Gryffindor won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, Harry was just as eager as Hermione to commence the celebration in Ron's honor. But there was one person, besides Grawp, who was niggling at the back of his mind, now that the song "Weasley Is Our King" was being turned completely on its head.

Harry pulled Hermione aside from the parade of Gryffindors when they made it back inside the castle. "Tell Ron I'll be up soon, alright? I forgot to tell Hagrid something."

"Don't be long," Hermione said. She simpered at Harry, then broke away to follow the lure of the new version of Draco's song.

Harry peered out the front doors of the castle and watched a troupe of Ravenclaws cross the Viaduct Courtyard, followed by a flock of subdued-looking Slytherins. He hid in an alcove, behind the granite statue of a regal hippogriff, and a few minutes later, Draco trudged in through the main doors surrounded by his friends, Pansy holding his hand and looking sullen. Crabbe and Goyle complained the whole way to the dungeons, while Miles Bletchley accused the Ravenclaws of throwing the game on purpose to prevent Slytherin from reclaiming the Quidditch Cup.

If you're going to work at all this year, Harry thought, looking down at his feet, I need you to work now. I want to see him alone, alright? If he's okay with it, I mean. Harry mentally willed the defunct spell connecting his ankles to the other boy to start working again—to wrangle Draco back—and surprisingly it worked.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He recognized the magical pull on one of his ankles, and it was coming from a shadowy recess in the wall not too far behind him.

Pansy stopped beside Draco and gazed up at his profile with large, inquiring eyes.

Draco jerked his head towards Crabbe and Goyle, whose voices could be heard echoing down the stairway. "Go on. I'll catch up in a bit."

"But Draco—"

"I just need a moment, alright?" He waited tensely for her to obey him like she always did; never any problems, never any fights. She was always perfectly and wonderfully in agreement with him.

Pansy mouthed the words "I love you," then strode away, leaving Draco with a conflicted sense of guilt for her sake, and resigned determination to the face the boy who was waiting for him.

After making sure they were alone and that no one else was crossing the Viaduct Courtyard, Draco said, "What do you want? Come to gloat, have you?"

When Draco faced the alcove, Harry peeked out from behind the hippogriff's curved beak. Harry, too, glanced around the Entrance Hall, fearful of Professor Snape showing up. They had to keep things brief, to prevent Draco from getting into trouble, and to keep them both from getting expelled for their careless behavior.

"Hey, loser." Harry smiled at him sheepishly.

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Excuse me," Harry said sarcastically. "Sore loser." He drifted out from behind the statue, shoulder brushing on its granite ruff.

Draco glared at him, disconsolate.

"What's wrong?" Harry stepped into the golden light that was filtering in through the upper windows. He approached Draco in the chary, catlike way he had done at the Yule Ball. "It's not like you're the one who lost out there, is it?"

"You bloody well know what's wrong."

"I seriously can't imagine." Harry grinned from ear to ear, unable to let up on the teasing. "Is this about how you never win the Quidditch Cup? You shouldn't be sad about that, you know. You can always beat my Bludger if you want, or put your Quaffle into my hoop." Harry's cheeky grin faded at the darkening expression on Draco's face. "It's just a joke, Malfoy." But Draco frowned so angrily that Harry went completely silent when he picked up the unwavering iciness of his gaze.