An Eventful Quidditch Match (HP) (Drarry) (COMPLETED)

chapter four

Harry begged Madame Pomfrey to let him eat at the infirmary, but she said that he was being released. She had healed his head injury and had no reason to stay any longer.

Harry was absolutely petrified.

He had learned he was safe at the Hospital Wing, but beyond that... it was a mystery. What if the second he stepped out he was hexed to oblivion? What if he was jumped immediately? Draco explained that this was a school, what if the kids bullied him? Harry was way overthinking this, really. Draco said that he was the savior of the wizarding world, and everybody loved him. Harry didn't exactly buy it, though.

Pushing last those thoughts, he and Draco made their way into the Great Hall. Immediately, all eyes snapped to him. Harry felt his stomach churn. He was not comfortable with everyone looking at him, he didn't feel very loved at all! Saviour of the wizarding world my ass... Draco began walking to the Slytherin table, Harry following close behind. Draco noted this and turned around, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Potter? You can't sit with me."

Potter bit his lip. "Pomfrey said you have to escort me and... I don't know anyone else. Just.. please let me eat with you." Harry didn't let himself get his hopes up; he was completely expecting to get insulted and pushed off to sit at the Gryffindor table where the Unknown waited for him. He wants the least bit excited for it, but he knew it was the most likely outcome.

It was to Harry's surprise and delight that Draco sighed and nodded, gesturing for Harry to sit beside him as they came to the table. Harry repressed a grin. He was safe! Across from Draco sat a dark-skinned boy with high cheekbones and a mostly shaved head. Beside him was a pug-faced girl with messy brown hair. They both looked at him quizzedly.

"Hello," Harry said timidly. "Did I know you?"

The girl gasped, then her face broke out into one of glee. "So the rumors are true! You have no idea who I am, how delightful!"

The boy beside her cleared his throat. "I'm Blaise Zabini, and my friend here is Pansy Parkinson," he paused, "I didn't know Gryffindors were allowed at the Slytherin table."

"I'm sure, with the circumstances, that they'd make an exception," the girl, who Harry now knew as Pansy, rolled her eyes, "He's the Golden Boy, after all."

"These are my friends," Draco explained, "They don't like you much."

Pansy gasped in fake hurt. "How dare you say something so terribly untrue-" Blaise clasped a hand over her mouth.

Harry Potter blinked in realization. "You're the ones who helped Malfoy with the button thing, fourth year."

Pansy ripped the hand off her face and grinned. She giggled. "Oh, it was such splendid work, wasn't it! So very fulfilling!"

Blaise narrowed his eyes at the Boy Who Lived. "How can you remember the button incident, but not us?"

"He can remember everything involving me," Draco interjected. "It's strange. Not normal memory loss."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I remember Malfoy spreading those buttons around with his gang, but I didn't know who those people were. Someone cursed me, that's why I have this weird memory thing, I think."

"How juicy of tea!" Pansy giggled again, and Blaise punched her shoulder, albeit with not much force.

"We shouldn't mess with him right now, Pans," he sipped from his cup, "It'd be kicking home while he's down. It's rude. Unsportsmanlike."

Pansy gave an exaggerated sigh. "Always you with your sportsmanship! Where are your corrupt Slytherin morals when I need them!"

Harry watched over the exchange with pursed lips. His nerves had not lessened since he walked into the Great Hall. People had not stopped watching him, and he thought they were surely talking about him as well. Harry wanted nothing more than to curl up under a blanket and hide from pricing eyes for eternity.

Harry picked at his breakfast, his appetite gone. He really hated all this attention.

Draco studied the boy next to him. Harry was certainly different now that he'd lost his memories, that was for sure. He and Draco, who had been teasing each other less than before the war, had agreed upon a truce. Something that never would've been possible under any other circumstances, Draco was sure. Draco, although he would never admit it, realized that Harry was alright company.

Draco spared a glance at the Gryffindor table. The Wealsette seemed to be doing poorly. Her eyes were red and agitated, as if she'd been crying a lot, and she was disheveled, as if she hadn't slept well. Draco supposed that was a reasonable reaction to your boyfriend completely forgetting you in turn for his rival.

The Golden Boy's main two friends were in a huddled conversation with themselves. Both seemed worried and frantic, glancing at the Slytherin table from time to time. Something was definitely up with the pair. All of Harry's other friends seemed to be moping (excluding Looney, who looked like she was having a lovely time enjoying her breakfast.) But the muggleborn and Weasley were not. For what reason, Draco was sure he would find out later.

His current concern was with Potter, who seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He was very quiet about his panic, though, as he barely put in his two cents. He mostly listened, trying to absorb as much information as he could even through his fear.

Draco cupped his hand around Harry's ear and whispered to him. "Do you need to take a break?" Harry nodded. Draco stood. "Well, me and Potter best be going. Gotta figure out if our sleeping arrangements change any, though I doubt they will. See you." Harry shot him a look of gratefulness as he stood from the table.

Pansy and Blaise bid them farewell. Once they were out of the Great Hall, Harry was finally able to breathe freely.

Was being in the public eye before as exhausting as it was now?