Just Some... Help

Chapter 2

Harry thought about Malfoy for the rest of the weekend... And Monday... And Tuesday. While thinking about Malfoy all the time wasn't new, thinking about Malfoy like this was. A sort of nervous anticipation constantly ran through his mind. 

For his part, Malfoy was rather close to becoming a nervous wreck. The well practiced mask was the only thing that kept him from falling apart in front of everyone. Had he really done that? Had he really texted Potter? He had, and now he was going to have to tell him why. Tell Potter of all people.

Harry wondered why he was doing this - why he was even considering it. It was clearly a trap, Malfoy had more pride than to ask his arch-enemy for help, no matter how desperate he was. But he seemed sincere. Actually, he seemed... different somehow. Less hateful. And there was the added fact that he had said thank you. How did Malfoy even get his number in the first place anyway? Why was Harry doing this? It was Malfoy of all people.

And yet on Tuesday after classes Harry found himself walking to the library, his footsteps quick with anticipation. They slowed as he reached the doors of the library and looked around, considering that it could still be a trap. He continued slowly, heading for the restricted section. Opposite the restricted section he had said... But as he paced up and down the aisle, looking for Malfoy, he became doubtful, the bookshelves revealing nothing.

Malfoy swallowed as he saw a flash of the red Gryffindor uniform, the messy dark mop, Potter's hands tapping at his legs. Gathering his thoughts and making sure the mask of indifference was set on his face, he stepped forward. 

He had been so stupid coming here, trusting Malfoy. Surely he was watching him from around a corner, sneering at how gullible Harry was. His body tense, he headed for the doors, fuming about fucking-bloody-Malfoy who had fucking tricked him again. He was so sick of him and his stupid pranks.
His fuming nearly made him miss the quiet sneer of "Potter, for Merlin's sake, in here", that definitely belonged to Draco Malfoy.
He whirled around, startled by the hiss and looked at the books suspiciously before approaching.
"Malfoy?" he asked hesitantly, searching for the unmistakable blond hair. The bookshelf moved, ever so slightly, to reveal a hidden door, and Harry pulled his wand out of the pocket of his muggle jeans before pushing it open. Malfoy leant against the opposite wall, bringing his hands up mockingly in a surrender position.
"I'm not going to hex you, so you can put your wand down." Harry eyed him suspiciously before lowering his wand but keeping  it tightly clenched in his fist.
"Why do you need my help Malfoy?" he shot at him, wary of the taller boy standing near him. It was a good place for studying, Harry thought, eyes darting around at the bookshelves that surrounded them. A little small for two people, he realized, shifting uncomfortably in the small space, but the desk squished in the corner would be perfect for a chance to study in private.
"It's.. Are you okay? You look very tense."
"No shit Sherlock. I'm meeting with you, my enemy, in a hidden corner of the library without knowing why!"
".. Sherlock?" Malfoy asked, his eyebrows coming together in a frown. He paused before continuing. "Are you sure? You really don't look okay."
Harry was surprised at the trace of concern he heard in Malfoy's voice. "It's nothing. I'm fine. What do you want?" He couldn't very well tell Malfoy that the small space seemed to be closing in on him, the stifling heat making his fingers tingle. He shook his arms, trying to relax, but the sweat rolling down his neck made his hairs stand on end. The blood seemed to rush to his head all at once as Malfoy stepped towards him and he feebly put up his arms, trying to hold himself upright and keep Malfoy away. This space was small enough even without Malfoy here, invading his space. The wall was unyielding behind him, Malfoy coming closer still and he couldn't breathe. His vision blurred, the floor suddenly bucking under him.
"Potter?" He heard before everything went black.

As Potter stepped into his study corner, Malfoy felt a jolt of electricity go through his body before berating himself internally and smoothing his mask back into place. He noticed the tense muscles in his shoulders and neck as the dark haired boy looked around at the walls.

"Are you okay?" he heard himself asking, cursing himself at the concern he could hear in his voice. In front of him Potter was pushed against the books, his breaths coming in short gasps and sweat shining on his tan skin.

"Potter?" he said, the concern in his tone evident. But Malfoy didn't notice this time, as he was focused on the shorter boy, who was now stretching out his arms as if to keep Malfoy away. Surely Potter wasn't that afraid of him? What was happening? And then without warning, Potter fell forward onto Draco. Draco brought his arms up to catch him instinctively, and he struggled with the dead weight before giving in and collapsing in an undignified way onto the floor, Potter unconscious on top of him.