Eighth Year (Drarry Fanfic)

Secrets Amongst Friends

Harry leisurely walked with Astoria up the staircase to the Fifth floor. They appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be close acquaintances as they chatted idly about everything and nothing. They did receive a few curious stares but it was quickly shrugged off since it was common knowledge that Harry was insanely popular and too much of a gentleman to blatantly reject those avid fans who approached him.

They strolled down the corridor and Harry instantly realised that they were heading towards the Muggle Studies Classroom. Surprised, he cast Astoria an appraising glance and being the Slytherin that she is, she immediately recognised the look on Harry's face.

"Yes, Harry..." She practically cooed, hefting a rather heavy book with the cursive on the leather cover that screamed in bright red: Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. "I do find this particular elective rather fascinating, even though I am a Pureblood." She smirked.

Harry huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Sorry. I was... surprised."

"I can see that." Astoria hummed then cast him a sidelong glance, "Not every Pureblood shares Voldemort's views, you know. We consider blood purity of great importance simply because we wish our children to inherit strong Magic, but not everyone believes that Muggles or Muggleborns are lesser beings. I certainly do not. Take your friend, Granger, for example. I admire her. She's a powerful witch, despite her ancestry."

Harry was taken aback. He stared at Astoria, hard, trying to glean what exactly it was that she wanted from him that she would talk so openly, so suddenly, about her worldview.

She merely smiled at him, eyes dancing with mischief, "Ah, here we are." She sang out, skipping ahead to pull open the door to an empty classroom. She waltzed right in, throwing Harry another smirk over her shoulder, goading him.

Unease pooled in the pit of Harry's gut. He paused just outside the door that Astoria had left ajar, torn between entering and just outright leaving. The niggling voice at the back of his head that had on more than one occasion saved him during the War, was screaming that this was a terrible idea; that this was a trap. But Harry also couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that this was extremely important and most likely had something to do with Draco.

Why else would Astoria approach him if it wasn't?

So, Harry walked in and pulled the door shut after him, stopping right beside Astoria as she lingered just near the doorway. She cast Harry a small smile, tilting her head towards the far wall. And there he was, standing by the window, his back angled towards the door; the telltale curl of cigarette smoke twisting above his pale-blonde head.

"What is it that you want, Astoria?"

Draco's voice was weary and thin. The sound of it made Harry's heart clench. He instinctively took a step forward, with every intention of taking Draco into his arms, but Astoria stopped him, her grip vice-like as she shot him a quelling glance. Keeping a hold of Harry, she glanced at Draco, who didn't so much as move from where he stood.

Astoria softly cleared her throat and replied, "We need to talk, Draco... about a lot of things. It had been extremely difficult, you see, with you avoiding me as you have been."

Draco kept his back towards the door, as though he didn't wish to even look at Astoria. Underneath his heathered gray cashmere jumper, the lean lines of his shoulders and back were painfully tense. His hair was a tousled mess, more than likely from carding nervous fingers through it, over and over again. A crisp, bitingly cold breeze drifted in from the small crack of the opened window, ruffling Draco's near-shoulder length blond locks, giving Harry enticing glimpses of his pale neck. Draco shivered, one arm curling tightly around his middle.