reparo ( ✓ )

chapter thirteen

"He doesn't joke around with me like that!" Draco exclaimed, pouting as he watched the Gryffindor Quidditch players make their way into the Great Hall for lunch. They'd been out practicing techniques all day, and upon entering, Draco took quick notice of Harry's smile, and more importantly: the arm wrapped around Ginny Weasley's waist.

"That's cause you're not friends with him, Malfoy." Pansy stated, rolling her eyes. It was every day that they had this conversation, and every day that Draco refused to do anything about his discomfort.

"I should be." He muttered, more so to himself before taking a spoonful of applesauce into his mouth. Upon glancing upwards once more, he found Harry pulling the She Weasel into a kiss, and found himself standing up rather abruptly.

"Malfoy!" Pansy exclaimed, startled by his abruptness.

"I'm gonna go. I think I've just lost my appetite." And with that, he made his way towards the exit. He didn't want to look back, but his instincts made him do it, and he found his eyes locking with Harry's dangerously.

He scowled and slammed the doors behind him, startling students as he went. Where could he go? The Room of Requirement was out of the question, as he knew he'd just desire Harry and Harry would be there. No, instead, he decided to make his way to the Slytherin Common Room: where he'd been spending less and less of his time as of recent.

Upon speaking the password, he entered the dungeon and took a seat on one of the plush couches by the empty fireplace. The room was abandoned and cold, but Draco was too numb to feel it. He brought his knees to his chest, feeling his lungs lack the ability to breathe, and began to weep.

"I hate you, Harry Potter." He mumbled to himself as tears continued to stream down his face at a constant rate. "And I hate your stupid friends too."

He spent hours like that, and when students eventually returned to the Common Room after supper, Draco made his way to the dorms as if he were a ghost. He felt like a ghost. It wasn't until the door to the dorm room opened that he realized there was no escape from the inevitable, and soon Blaise Zabini was taking a seat beside Draco: rubbing his back affectionately.

"Malfoy, why so blue?" Zabini asked, curious as to just why his friend had left so suddenly at lunch.

"It's nothing, Zabini. Get off me." Draco snapped, brushing off Blaise's hand. The boy only pulled him into an embrace then, and Draco found he didn't have the strength to pull away again.

"Malfoy, you're hurt and I wanna help. Let me help. I'm good at helping." Blaise claimed, squeezing the blond boy tightly; reassuringly.

"I said it was nothing, Blaise. Accept that as an answer and leave me at once." The blond was angry, and his voice came steadily, though his heart felt weak.

"Malfoy..."

"Zabini..."

"I'll leave in a moment. Right now, you need a hug." With that, Zabini continued to hug him, and Draco secretly felt grateful. Blaise didn't want to do it, but he did eventually stand up and make his move towards the door.

"Blaise, wait!" Draco called just before the door could shut. The boy turned around, and Draco patted his bed, gesturing for him to sit once more.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Zabini, Blaise, whatever... You were right, okay? I'm just- I've been so scared to admit it, but you were right. I hate when I'm not right, dammit." Draco started, and Blaise looked to him in confusion.

"What was I right about?" He asked.

"The fact that I, Draco Malfoy, am so hopelessly in love with Harry Potter."