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The Heart of the Matter	By : Jad Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 23
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- 25
Starting with this chapter, I'm going to address some questions left in reviews at the end.

Also, keep in mind that this is nearly current -- once the next chapter posts, updates will only come as each additional chapter is finished. The previous updates came quickly because they've been finished for a while. If you like what you see here and are looking for something else to occupy your time, I have several finished H/D fics also uploaded to this site! Thanks so much for all the feedback so far! :)

Chapter Twenty-four

'End discrimination: hate everybody.'

—Elle Eden

: : :

So far, nothing else had caught on fire. The Heads of House seemed to consider this a victory, and for the next week the new arrangements went about relatively peacefully.

There'd been some mention about first-year Hufflepuffs being used like house-elves by the older Slytherins, and the Ravenclaws had complained about the general condition of Gryffindor books, but for the most part, everybody was happy.

Well, almost.

'Bloody brainless, belligerent badgers!'

Pansy was on the rampage again. Actually, Pansy was so often on the rampage that it was easier to note when she wasn't. Everything about Hufflepuffs infuriated her; the way they walked, talked, had manners, held open doors for the person behind them, brushed their teeth, breathed…

Draco was in his room, lounging on his bed amongst several rolls of parchment, a Self-Inking quill, and his Potions book balanced delicately on his knees. His half-finished essay fluttered to the floor in the wake of Pansy slamming his door.

'Good morning,' he said by way of greeting, without looking up. He summoned his essay back and began writing again.

'I can't stand them,' she snarled, plopping onto the edge of his bed in a huff, causing his fluid strokes to dance haphazardly across the parchment. 'I don't care if there're only a dozen of us, we'd be fine in the dungeons. Our dungeons.'

'I dunno,' Draco hummed, fixing the error. 'The tower's all right, much more tolerable colour scheme. Nice to see the sun in the morning, too.'

Pansy turned to glare at him. 'You don't have to live with them.'

Draco spared her a look, raising an eyebrow. 'The badgerettes ganging up on you, darling?'

'I can take care of myself,' Pansy snapped, turning away and raising her chin.

Draco smiled at her back. He wondered briefly who she'd hex first, if she found out he'd been courting a Hufflepuff over the summer. He decided it'd be best if he never had to find out.

: : :

Granger cornered him after the next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Draco had been distracted; the lesson had been focused on the uses of Dark magic in history, and what uses the Dark Arts had in Old Magic. He had been re-reading the last paragraphs of the chapter they'd gone over in class while his classmates exited in a chorus of book-shuffling and chair-scraping. When he'd finally put his book away and stood up, a mass of bushy hair obscured his view.

'Malfoy,' she said curtly. 'We need to arrange a time to meet; the Headmaster would like us to take the evening curfew sweeps in turns, and I've made a timetable of when I think will best suit us both, taking into account how early our morning classes begin on the following day. If you—'

'Whatever,' Draco replied, walking carefully around her. 'Just Owl me the schedule, I'll manage.'

'Well—will you please wait a moment?' She dashed around him, cutting him off. 'There's other things we need to discuss, and I also wanted to ask—I mean, Harry wanted to know if—would you be interested in attending the DA meetings?' She spoke hurriedly, the words rushing out over the top of each other. 'I mean, it'd set a good example to the students, especially since not many Slytherins have—'

'Granger,' he interrupted. She huffed at the interruption and went to continue her lecture, but Draco spoke over her. 'I've really no interest in spending more time with you than I absolutely have to.'

He left her standing there, aware that Potter had watched the exchange from the door. He tried to walk past him, but Potter moved to block the doorway. 'Malfoy—'

'If I'm late for Ancient Runes,' Draco said tersely, shoving past him, 'I swear to Merlin, I will deduct one hundred points from Gryffindor.'

'Malfoy,' Potter said again, side-stepping into his path. 'Just—will you hear me out? Please?'

'What is this, an intervention?' Draco said, annoyed, wheeling around.

'You could call it that,' Potter said, failing to contain a smirk. 'I'm serious.'

'So am I,' Draco said, stepping around him. 'Thanks, but no thanks.'

'Malfoy—' Potter grabbed his wand arm, and Draco snatched it back quickly, grasping his forearm through the fabric of his robes. 'Shit, sorry.'

Draco turned away wordlessly and left; he didn't hear footsteps following, but just before he rounded the corner, Potter's voice called after him. 'You said you couldn't conjure a Patronus.'

It sounded like a challenge. Draco stopped but didn't turn around. He could hear Potter's footsteps now, coming towards him, stopping just behind him.

'I could teach you.'

Draco snorted softly, looking over his shoulder. 'What makes you think I want you to?'

Potter hesitated. 'I just figured, with your mum and everything—'

'Don't,' Draco bit out quickly.

'—that you might want to, you know, be prepared.'

Draco turned slowly to face him, expressionless. 'I'm not helpless, Potter.'

'I'm not saying you are,' Potter replied, looking him in the eyes, 'but we all need to be prepared. Dark spells alone won't be enough. I'd—prefer,' he spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, 'that you're able to defend yourself properly. When the time comes.'

Draco noted his use of 'when', not 'if'.

'Your concern, while touching,' he sneered over his shoulder, turning to leave, 'is unnecessary. I can take care of myself, Potter.'

Behind him, Potter said, 'Can you?'

Draco pretended not to hear him, and went to Ancient Runes.

: : :

'I am not a cripple, Mr Malfoy.'

'Of course you aren't, sir,' Draco remarked absently. He finished tidying away the empty cauldrons anyway, and sent the leftover ingredients soaring back to the supply cupboard with a flick of his wand.

It was the following Thursday. Draco had managed to dodge any further inquiries about his attending the DA meeting that was to take place that very evening. Here, he was sure, even Potter wouldn't dare come to find him. Brave as the prat was, he was not sadistic—he would avoid Snape at all costs, which made Draco's job of avoiding Potter all that much easier.

It wasn't the only reason he was here, though. He'd been staying behind in Potions class since the start of term, attempting to make small-talk and gossiping about the unhealthy habits of Hufflepuffs in an effort to disguise the fact that he really just missed his old professor's company. With all the Slytherins spending their time crammed into Ravenclaw Tower with Hufflepuffs (Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had only slightly protested the arrangement; the staff wanted both bodies of students out of the dungeons, so Ravenclaw were bunking in Gryffindor Tower for now), Draco hardly got to see his Head of House outside of classes and meals anymore.

'I am perfectly capable,' Snape persisted from his seat the desk, but making no effort to move despite his words, 'of putting my classroom back into order on my own.'

'Sure thing, Professor,' Draco replied, spelling the desks clean.

Snape rolled his eyes but turned back to the rolls of parchment on his desk, recent assignments collected from his NEWT-level students. He selected one and opened it, and immediately began to slash at it with his wand, leaving red marks in its wake. Draco did not have ask whose unfortunate paper it was; Potter had, unfortunately, gotten an Outstanding in Potions thanks to Slughorn, and Snape had no choice but to allow him to continue the subject in his seventh year. This did not mean that Snape had to be fair about it.

'Idiot,' Snape hissed through his teeth at the parchment. 'Mr Malfoy, if you're quite finished, I must get these marked before the day's end, and your hovering is rather distracting.'

'I'm not hovering.' Draco made a face over his shoulder; well, maybe he was hovering. A little. 'I could help you mark those, if you like.'

'Don't you have something better to do?'

'Not really,' Draco said, truthfully. 'Potions was my last class today, you know that. And dinner's not for another couple of hours.' Draco paused, then added, smirking, 'I guess I could go torment the Hufflepuffs for a bit, if you like.'

'I meant,' Snape continued, ignoring the remark, 'something more extracurricular?'

'Sir?'

Snape laid down his wand and looked up at Draco. 'I believe this evening is the first meeting of the DA, is it not?'

'Oh,' said Draco. 'Um. Well, I wasn't planning on attending, sir.'

'Really,' Snape said, not sounding surprised at all. 'And why not?'

Draco looked at him incredulously. 'Are you kidding, sir?'

'Do I appear to be kidding?'

'I—' Draco fumbled, looking for a valid argument. 'I don't think I'd be welcome,' he admitted. 'Sir.'

Snape resumed his attack on Potter's assignment. 'I was under the impression that Potter had invited you personally.'

'Well, yes, but—'

'As painful as it is for me to admit it,' Snape continued, 'the organisation has produced some very impressive results. Many students have benefited from the practice. And let's be frank, Draco,' Snape said, looking up at him briefly, 'Defence has never been your strong suit.'

Draco felt himself flush. 'I've got enough to do,' he insisted. 'I mean, I've got to study for NEWTs, and I've—well, with Head Boy duties—'

'Not a minute ago you assured me you had nothing better to do than torment your unfortunate Housemates,' Snape interrupted, smirking. 'And as much as I would normally encourage such behaviour, I believe your time would be better spent with the DA.'

: : :

When Draco arrived on the seventh-floor corridor, he could hear explosions. Flashes of multicoloured light reflected off the far wall and, cautiously making his way down the hall, he saw that the door to the Room of Requirement had been propped open.

Inside was a haze of smoke, dust, and loud bangs. A large group of students, thirty or more, were huddled against the far wall; they seemed to be comprised of fourth-years and older, and were watching the spectacle on the main floor with wide-eyed and, in some cases, open-mouthed awe.

Potter was in the centre of the room, which was covered in thick mats and several pieces of furniture, randomly arrayed to provide cover. His back was against one of the wardrobes, and he was fending off the attacks of what looked like three other students; at least two other Stunned or otherwise incapacitated students already lay unmoving on the floor. Professor Meadows and Granger, wands drawn, were poised at either end of the room in what looked like referee positions—probably there to make sure no one got seriously injured.

Ginny was crouched behind a table with Neville; they seemed to be communicating with hand signals—across from them, behind her own table, was Luna Lovegood, looking pleased, if a little singed. Potter was breathing heavily, his chest falling and rising under his robes, and grinning. Draco walked in the door just as Ginny and Neville stood up and attacked, shooting Stunning spells at the side of the wardrobe Potter was behind—when Potter ducked out of the way, Luna nearly hit him in the chest with another Stun, but Potter's shield charm was too quick for her; the spell rebounded, hitting her full in the face, and knocked her flat on her back.

'Shit!' Ginny dragged Neville back down and, shoving just her wand over the edge of the table, yelled 'Reducto!' The wardrobe exploded into fragments, making the group of students at the far end of the room duck and shield their eyes. If she had been looking, she would have seen that Potter was no longer by the wardrobe; he'd moved to another upturned piece of furniture, this time a bookcase, and now disarmed her with a quick, unuttered Expelliarmus.

With two wands trained on them, Neville and Ginny looked at each other; Neville raised his eyebrows and Ginny, shrugging, raised her hands in surrender. Potter lowered the wands, smirking, and tossed hers back.

'As you can see,' Professor Meadows said, as Granger went and revived the two other students, 'the original members of this little organisation are quite advanced in the way of duelling. And while I do not expect all of you to be able to duel five on one like Mr Potter, here—'

Draco snorted, loudly enough that the Professor paused in his speech and turned to face him. Every eye in the room followed; Granger looked surprised, and Potter looked rather pleased. Draco smirked at him. 'Hardly a feat, is it, taking on five amateurs with no real intent to hurt him.'

'I'm pretty sure the Death Eaters meant to hurt him.' It was surprisingly not Ginny, Granger, or Weasley who spoke up—but Longbottom. Dusting himself off, he shot Draco a look of such solid conviction that Draco blinked at him, taken aback. 'And I'm pretty sure Voldemort meant to. Still managed to out-duel them, didn't he?'

Potter was the only person in the room besides Neville not to wince at the Dark Lord's name. Before Draco could reply, however, Potter spoke up: 'He's still got a point, though, Neville.' Potter turned his gaze to Draco. 'Well?' he said. 'Come on, then, Malfoy. Let's see what you've got.'

Well, he'd walked right into this, hadn't he? But it was a little late to back down, what with half of the student body as an audience. Shrugging his cloak off onto the floor, Draco stepped forward, wand held casually at his side. Potter grinned at him.

'I dare say I need not remind you both,' Professor Meadows' voice called out, 'that unblockable curses are forbidden.'

Draco kept his eyes on Potter as he asked, 'And Dark magic?'

Professor Meadows sounded strangely smug as he replied, 'Is encouraged, Mr Malfoy. After all, that is what we're here to learn how to defend against.'

Potter really was shit at Occlumency, Draco observed as the duel began. He could see every spell coming, even the occasional non-verbal that Potter sent his way, and easily blocked them all. Potter wasn't using anything dangerous at all—Stunning Spells, minor jinxes, and repeated attempts at Disarming him. While these spells might have been effective if they were unexpected, with his untrained mind giving away his every move, they were useless.

After a fifth blocked Stun, Potter paused. He was sizing Draco up, trying to figure out what he was up to—and Draco let him, because Draco's mental barriers were in place so that even if Potter had any skill at Legilimency, he wouldn't have a clue.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, Potter pointed his wand at the ceiling; too late, Draco saw the silent incantation in his mind, and barely got off his Shield Charm in time. While he was distracted with the crumbling ceiling, Potter cast again, and nearly got him with a Stun—Draco snarled and lashed back, sending an onslaught of conjured chains at him that attempted to choke him. Potter blasted the chains away with another Reductor Curse just as Draco turned his wand on a nearby wardrobe. It sprang to life and opened its double doors to reveal large, wooden teeth and attempted to swallow his opponent. It screeched horribly as Potter quickly set it on fire—he was casting entirely non-verbal spells now, Draco noticed, full of adrenaline and acting purely on autopilot.

Draco's plan with the wardrobe failed as it turned on him, fleeing the fire from Potter's wand, and nearly ran him down. He destroyed it with a quickly thought reducto! but when the debris settled, Potter was no longer in front of him.

'Not bad, Malfoy,' Potter said at his shoulder. His wand was resting against Draco's throat, bobbing in time with Draco's swallows, tracing the scar there. 'But not good enough.'

They were both breathing so heavily that Draco could feel Potter's chest collide with his back at every breath. Draco contemplated duelling further, but despite Potter's failing at Occlumency, he knew he was outmatched. He glanced at Potter over his shoulder, and felt his stomach clench; Potter was filthy, singed, and smelled of ash, but was smiling at him for some absurd reason. Draco hurriedly looked away and lowered his wand.

'An excellent demonstration in repelling the Dark Arts,' Professor Meadows conceded as Draco, wincing, went to work removing the splinters from his hand from the renegade wardrobe. Potter set to tidying the mess with Granger as the rest of the students ventured closer, taking seats on the mats once they were clean. 'As you all saw, casting non-verbal spells was an essential...'

After the excitement of the opening duel with Potter, Draco felt himself growing bored. Even when Professor Meadows finished his little talk and split them into groups to practice Disarming, Draco kept wondering when the two hours would be up and it would be time for dinner. The only people he hadn't been able to Disarm outright had been Potter, Granger, and—shockingly enough—Longbottom. The rest of the students hardly presented a challenge, and he smirked rather viciously when he sent both Weasley and his sister's wands soaring.

'So at what point, exactly,' he drawled as they began spelling away their respective injuries and messes, 'am I supposed to be learning something useful?'

Potter, who was beside him healing a rather nasty cut on his shin, raised his eyebrows. 'Not enough of a challenge for you, Malfoy?'

'Not enough to waste two hours of my life,' Draco answered truthfully. 'Why don't you send me an Owl when you get to the good stuff, and I'll consider dropping by again.'

'Yeah? And what else is it that you have to do?' Potter rubbed the newly-healed skin, flexing his calf, and winced. 'Dammit.'

'Here.' Draco pushed his wand away with his own and muttered the healing spells; Potter tensed, probably expecting more pain, but relaxed as the spells took effect. 'You really are shit at healing charms.'

'Can't be good at everything.' He stood up, testing his weight on the leg. Satisfied it could support him, he shifted a few times. 'You know, you could actually be a lot of help with these lessons—I mean, the professor's the only one any good with healing charms, and you could teach the rest of us—'

'Harry, you coming?'

The room was emptying quickly; with the promise of dinner, people were hurriedly filing out the door. Professor Meadows had already disappeared, but Granger, Weasley, Longbottom and Ginny were all chatting by the exit, waiting for Potter; Ginny was waiting expectantly for an answer. But Potter waved them on and, with some reluctance and raised eyebrows from Weasley, they filed out.

'Tell you what,' Potter said, turning back around once they were alone. 'Forget healing charms. But I did want to ask you a favour.'

Draco raised an eyebrow. Potter, ask him for a favour? Owe him? Oh, this had to be good... 'I don't swing that way, but thanks anyway.'

Potter gave him a look and Draco suddenly felt a strong urge to squirm. 'Not that sort of favour,' he said, smirking. 'You're good at Occlumency,' he blurted, now looking like he also wanted to squirm. 'And I... well, Snape tried to teach me last year, and I don't think I need to even tell you how well that went.'

Draco blinked at him in disbelief. 'You want me to tutor you?'

'Why not?' Potter asked, shrugging. 'I mean, over the summer, Theo—and you—well, you helped a lot.' He sighed and looked at the floor, scuffing it with his shoe. 'I really miss getting a full night of sleep.'

'Potter,' Draco said, drawing the green gaze back up to him. 'Snape's the best Occlumens in the country. Probably the world. If he can't teach you—'

'I think it was less of a "can't" and more of a "won't", honestly,' Potter interrupted. 'There's... too much animosity between us.'

'And what're we, best mates?'

The smirk was back. When did Potter start smirking so much? 'If you think you're not up to it, Malfoy—'

'You know, what with you and Granger constantly inventing new ways to hog all of my attention, a bloke might get the wrong idea.'

'I'll tell her the threesome's off, then,' Potter remarked, his smirk growing at the look of utter repulsion Draco gave him. 'Come on, Malfoy. Don't make me beg.'

For a moment, Draco thought Potter had hexed him; those last words, casual as they were, hit Draco like a Freezing Charm. He swallowed quickly, and covered it up with a sneer. 'Would you?'

'If that's what stirs your cauldron.' The heat manifesting in Draco's collar began to travel lower. Potter, seemingly unaware of the effect his words were having, sighed. 'Look, we can do a trade-off. I'll teach you how to do the Patronus Charm, and you teach me Occlumency. Or try to, at least,' he added, shifting.

'You're not going to go away until I say yes, are you?'

The smirk was back again. 'I'm not below begging,' Potter reminded him.

Draco really hoped the shiver that ran through him wasn't obvious.

: : :

Thank you to all my reviewers! To address a few questions/comments:
Why Theodore left is a little bit of a mystery on purpose, but I figured it would be obvious -- if you have no idea what I mean, you'll find out eventually. As far as the House colours, if Pansy had perhaps gone to the heads of house rather than just pranking everyone, she might have had more success. And for how Harry's dealing with Theodore being gone, it's really hard for Draco to have a clue either way outside of Occulemcy lessons, due to this being his POV -- he misses out a lot on the interactions between Harry and his friends.
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The Heart of the Matter