Lips Of An Angel ♥ Drarry [Harry Styles/Draco Malfoy] ♥

♥Chapter Two♥

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Chapter Two

*In Compartment 245, Hogwarts Express*

“Took you long enough,” Louis muttered as Harry burst through the compartment door. He slammed it shut and sat down on the bench opposite his two friends, his breathing rapid. How could he have been so dumb? How!?

“Whoa, calm down,” Liam said, shutting his brand new copy of Hogwarts, A History. “What happened out there?”

“He…and then I…then…oh God…” Harry mumbled things over and over to himself, things that only he could make sense of. Liam sat dutifully and tried to piece the puzzle of Harry Styles together while Louis waited impatiently.

“Did you at least get my sweets?” He asked. Harry looked up at him as if realizing for the first time that he wasn’t alone in the compartment. He nodded weekly and threw the sweets at Louis along with his change. “Thanks,” The boy mumbled, picking up his licorice wands and spare galleons up off the floor. Liam sat his elbows on his knees with his chin in his hands while his face scrunched up in concentration. Both Louis and Harry looked at him, Louis raising an eyebrow and Harry blushing a deep scarlet before looking down at his shoes which had suddenly become very interesting.

“What happened?” Liam asked again. Harry buried his face in his hands allowing his curls to fall and cover his embarrassed expression.

“He was out there,” Harry croaked out. Liam nodded understandingly and so did Louis. Both of the boys knew of Harry’s feelings for the Slytherin Prince, for he was extremely bad at hiding it. Between the googly eyes in Potions and the moaning of the boy’s name in his sleep, Liam and Louis found out rather quickly.

“What did the prick say?” Louis asked. Harry winced slightly at the name, remembering how he’d been called that just minutes before. He did the same thing Draco had done and went to his crush’s defense.

“Don’t call him that!” Harry snapped, his eyes locking onto Louis’s. “You don’t know him.”

“Oh, and you do?” Louis spat back, his eyes darkening.

“I…” Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. In fact, he didn’t know the boy at all. That’s one of the things that intrigued him the most about Draco Malfoy. To Harry, most people were an open book and he could read them and their emotions like reading a book. Draco, however, had put up so many defenses and walls to keep people out that it was hard to read all of the emotions flashing through his eyes at any given moment. Harry had pinned a few that were pretty constant: fear, anger and hurt. Draco was afraid of something, or someone, and he was angry about it, Harry could tell that much. It’s most likely why he lashed out as often as he did. He was just angry and hurt and wanted people to feel what he felt when he should be talking about everything and getting his anger out in a safe way. Harry wished that person who Draco could talk to would be him, but he knew that never in a million years would that happen, even if Harry was a wizard.

“Hello?” Louis snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face. “Please come back from Dracoville for like two seconds,” He rolled his eyes. “I was winning an argument for once and you zoned out.”

“Louis,” Liam sighed heavily. “We’re almost there. Can you please leave this for a time when I’m not as tired and stressed out as I am now? I really do not have the energy to break up another fight between the two of you.”

“It’s not my fault he always defends that prick-”

“Stop calling him that!” Harry stood, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Just fucking stop!” And with that he stormed back out into the hall. He stormed down the corridor trying to get as far away from Louis Tomlinson as possible. Halfway down the car he ran into the blond boy who’d started the fight.

“Don’t touch me, Styles,” Draco growled, putting on a show for his friends since he’d screwed up so bad earlier. He pushed him into the wall and something inside Harry snapped. He grabbed Draco by the collar of his jacket and slammed him against the opposite wall.

“I didn’t fucking do it on purpose, Malfoy,” He spit, his voice low and angry. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is a hallway. People generally walk in them. It’s not my bloody fault that you’re too stuck up and arrogant to realize that you are in other peoples’ way.” Harry slammed him back against the wall again for good measure. He knew deep down that what he was doing was wrong but he was too far gone. He’d reached his breaking point. Everyone around the two were too stunned to intervene. All Niall, Zayn and their other friends could do was watch and hope Draco didn’t get his ass kicked by a Gryffindor. “I’m sick and tired of you and your bullshit. The next fucking time you feel like calling someone a prick or picking on someone just fucking look in the mirror and remember- you’re just fucking jealous.”

“And what exactly am I jealous of?” Draco whispered, his voice shaking. No one had been this in his face since Hermione Granger in their third year, and he was honestly scared.

“Everyone else is truly happy. They don’t have to act like an arrogant son of a bitch to everyone to prove that they’re tough. All you are is a coward. Not once have I seen you actually fight any of your own battles. Who is the one always in the hospital when you start something, hm? Zayn? Niall? Blaise? Anyone but you.”

Draco froze. It was true; he never did fight any of his own battles. It surprised him that anyone had taken the time to actually process that. People didn’t fear Draco; they feared what he could make his friends do. Draco had never personally raised a wand to anyone, with the exception of Harry Potter their second year when he had to duel him during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Maybe you should fight your own battles,” Harry spat as he released Draco and continued on his way. Draco’s body ran cold as those words left Harry’s mouth. He fell to the ground and was vaguely aware of people buzzing around him. He was thrown into a flashback, one that he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or an actual event that had taken place.

Draco walked through the halls of Hogwarts after dark. He knew he shouldn’t have been out; the Basilisk was out and petrifying students. But he liked danger and wanted to see the thing for himself. He heard a noise coming from down the corridor and he ran, excited. Maybe he could finally see the snake for real instead of drawings in books. Just as he was about to round the corner he was slammed into the wall by a boy his age with a mop of curly brown hair.

“Let me go,” He hissed.

“No,” The boy said. “That’s the Basilisk.”

“I want to see it,” Draco said, but the boy holding him down was strong for his age. He looked at him quickly and frowned when he realized the boy holding him down was a Gryffindor. How pathetic. It was probably one of Potter’s dumb friends.

“It could kill you,” The boy argued. “It already got another boy.”

“Who?” A small part of Draco hoped that it was Potter lying lifeless on the ground, or at least petrified. He could go a few days, or the rest of his life, without hearing about “The Boy Who Lived”.

“A first year Gryffindor,” The boy said. “I’m on my way to tell Professor McGonagall now.”

“Why?” Draco wondered.

“Why not” The Gryffindor released him and began to walk down the hall towards the infirmary where McGonagall was with Madame Pomfrey curing students.

“You should fight your own battles,” The Slytherin boy replied. “This isn’t your fight.”

“It isn’t yours either,” The Gryffindor said, turning and running down the hall.

Those words, Draco had heard them before. “You should fight your own battles.” That was a direct quote. Had he spoken to Harry Styles before fourth year? Could that boy really have been Harry all those years ago? And if so, why did he remember what Draco had said? That was four years before, he should have forgotten. Draco had up until then.

What was happening?