I hex you, you hex me

When Harry returned to Hogwarts after the war, he figured it would be a quiet uneventful year in which he could finally focus on his studies. No more Horcruxes, no more Death Eaters, no more Voldemort. What more could Harry have to face? He'd already died once and he'd faced Voldemort more times than he could count. Surely that's all the world had in store for Harry Potter? Surely there was nothing else sent his way to challenge him? Nothing else that could make his heart stop in fear?

Harry Potter hadn't counted on Draco Malfoy.

You'd think that Malfoy would be grateful after Harry vouched for him and his mother, saving them both potential time in Azkaban. However, Malfoy was acting like nothing had changed. He was still acting like the arrogant prat he was before the war. Strutting around from class to class like he owned the place, scowling at first years, and worst of all, sneering at and mocking Harry at every opportunity.

In truth, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy who died, the boy who defeated Voldemort, was scared. Scared of what Malfoy might do, scared of what he might do in retaliation. He still felt guilty about using the Sectumsempra curse on Malfoy back in sixth year. True, he didn't know what the spell would do at the time, but the consequences were still the same. He had no desire to spar with Malfoy again, but he was afraid his own short temper would take him back to that familiar place anyway. It always did.

Whenever Malfoy sneered at him, he would look away, knuckles clenched. Whenever Malfoy insulted him, he grit his teeth and bit back a retort. However with each sneer and insult, it became harder and harder to ignore and he knew he was going to snap eventually. Although, he didn't expect it to be in their second week back.

Harry was making his way into the Great Hall for breakfast chatting with Ron and not looking where he was going when he ran into something solid. He jumped back in surprise and looked up to find Malfoy's sneering face.

"Potter," snarled Malfoy. "Watch where you're going."

Harry grimaced but held his tongue. He would not react, he would not react, he would not react...

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? I guess the war made you lose your spine." Malfoy laughed mockingly and continued strutting out of the hall.

Harry's face went red and he clenched his fists. He told himself to breathe and walk to the Gryffindor table, breathe and walk to the Gryffindor table, breathe and...

"Harry, no!" called out Ron as Harry turned and followed Malfoy out into the Entrance Hall.

"What is your problem, Malfoy?" He yelled at the other boy's back.

Malfoy turned to face Harry, smirking. "I thought that was obvious."

Harry frowned, confused. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and leant up against the wall. "You, Potter."

"Me?"

"You're clearly waiting for me to bow down and kiss your feet so-"

"Malfoy, what are you talking about?" he asked again, even more confused.

Malfoy's face scrunched up cruelly and he took a step towards Harry. "I didn't ask for you to vouch for me, Potter and I'm certainly not going to thank you. If you think this means you hold something over-"

Harry widened his eyes in surprise, most of his anger fading. "Malfoy, I don't...I didn't expect...that's not why I did it."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Don't play stupid with me, Potter. I'm not in the mood for your hero games."