What Happens After Dark - Drarry

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New word count: 1k
Date (re)published: November 8th, 2020
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— Monday - Headmistress Umbridge's Office -
11:49pm—

Betrayal. That was all Harry could feel. Never in his life had he felt so betrayed. Not when Lockhart tried to lock him in the Chamber of Secrets. Not when the Goblet of fucking Fire had spit out his name. Not when McGonagall had taken house points for saving Hermione from a bloody troll. He'd never felt such a horrid betrayal. Never in his life had he felt such so betrayed that made him feel like his best friend had stabbed him with a rusty knife right through the heart. Why did it hurt? He wasn't even friends with Malfoy.

Why did the pain and regret that blew on his rival's face in soft puffs and bursts of painfully chilled wind make him feel so terribly guilty?

Perhaps it was because Malfoy regretted it. Perhaps it was because the energy wasted on the rivalry wasn't worth it. Harry certainly didn't think it was. Perhaps, in a different time, or under different circumstances they could have been friends. Maybe they still could be.

But it didn't matter what Harry thought. Harry had thrown away his only chance to be friends with Malfoy. He would pretend that he was in the feud full heartedly, when in reality, even a third of his heart wasn't in it. He would pretend he hated the boy who had helped him avoid Umbridge time and time again. He would pretend that the little safety he'd found in their midnight conversations never existed. He would pretend, and he would do it to keep himself safe, and to keep his rival safe. He would suffocate the feelings and ride the life out of the emotional roller coaster he'd been forced onto.

And it was all over a bloody Malfoy. Harry had gone soft, disgustingly so, and look at where it had gotten him.

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— Tuesday - The Forbidden Forest - 12:43am —

Harry stood in shock as he watched Umbridge be carried off by the centaurs. The majestic creatures sent a final wave toward Harry before galloping into the covered darkness of the forest. Hermione was the first to speak, and when she did, it was words that withheld the horror she felt.

"We're going to be expelled! What ever are we to do?" her face was saturated with worry.

"We'll be fine, hon," Ron responded with a slight chuckle in his velvety voice. He slung an arm around his terrified girlfriend, before shooting a playful wink in Harry's direction and walking towards the castle. Harry didn't see it, however, as he had turned to face the enemy: Malfoy.

Harry spat words that were heavily laced with venom as he spoke to his rival. "You know, you're lucky we took care of that. Had it gone any other way, you might have gone in her place." He gestured off into the thick forest  toward the shadows of Umbridge and the centaurs that were forever growing smaller.

Malfoy gulped. "And you know I would never dream of telling Umbridge about your little club." The apologetic look in his eyes was cracking Harry's stone gaze. "You have to believe me, Potter."

Their whispers were harsh and quiet, since Hermione was barely twenty feet away, advancing slowly toward the castle with a hysterical Ron at her side. Harry spoke, "Do you honestly think I can forgive you? You told my secret to the one person I really needed to hide it from!" His voice cracked. "How could you?" The tears that formed in his eyes weren't from the toxicity of the situation, but the betrayal he felt coursing through his body. " I thought...I thought..." He didn't know what he thought. They weren't friends. Why did he expect Malfoy to be trustworthy?

"Potter, if we just talked abo-"

"No." Harry didn't know what Malfoy was going to say, but he didn't care either. He wasn't upset. He wasn't. No, really, he wasn't. "Save it for someone who cares, Malfoy. Don't add me to the guest list of your pathetic pity party." Harry knew it was a low blow, especially since Malfoy had, surprisingly, been there for him when he needed it most.

"Funny. I remember you being the one hosting it." With that, Malfoy was off, leaving with a dramatic eye roll and a middle finger to Harry.

— Tuesday - The Room of Requirements - 1:16am —

Harry wasn't quite sure why he was mad. He'd forgiven Malfoy, mentally of course, but he still felt anger bubbling inside of him. It was a hunger. He wanted something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. And he decided it was best to forgive and forget.

They were sat awkwardly in the Come and Go Room, staring at each other as if they were going to get some answers as to why they were there by examining each other.

Harry hated how forgiving he was, he really did. It just wasn't in his nature to hold grudges. So he did the responsible thing, and decided to apologize.

He looked up, uncertainty already clouding his vision. "Um... Malfoy?"

"What, Potter?" The sigh Harry was greeted with didn't faze him in the slightest.

"I'm uh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I got angry at you. I'm sorry for not believing you, though I don't have any proof that you didn't say anything."

The air was dense with anticipation.

"You are forgiven. And I'm sorry for flipping you off." Malfoy responded first chipper, and then gloomily.

Harry let out a light chuckle as the atmosphere lightened noticeably. "Apology accepted."

The two barely spoke, but neither boy really cared. It was nice to be filter-free with someone. It was nice to have someone there who didn't care about what you were like or what you said, because at the end of the day, nothing left the room.

They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies. They were simply civil. And that was fine.

For now. 

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