“I ahink, had things goly,” Harry rambled, his w off. He sthter, pushihe wall. “You would have made a bloody good potions master, Malfoy. I think I would have rather liked that. It does, beihout you telliotter’s voie quavered as he finished.
Drao let himself slump against the ed a hand over his mouth to keep any noise from esaping. He was dreamio be, beause if athih, he ould. He ouldo knootter, the maer of almht that orbited his mind, missed him. Missed him enough to talk to a loked door in a seemiy hallway, a do anything to help him.
Just when Drao thought he ouldn’t take muh more of it, Potter overed his eyes with his hand.
“Fuk,” Potter said, turning so his bak was against the doorway, sliding dow on the ground. Drao ould see even in the dim light the other man had tears running down his heeks. “I don’t know how to get past you. I didn’t even know you were someo.”
Potter fell silent, apart frur breathing and oasional s there for what felt like a must have only beees, theo ollet himself, lifting his gsses to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. He stood quietly, lookiryway one more, shaking his head and began walking towards Drao.
&hing that way that anyone used anymore, ued a really round about way of gettiheairs to the kithen, or—that was it. Snape’s offie. MGonagall had given him Snape’s offie.
Drao stood still, barely breathing, u see or hear P away ahe after that just to be sure. He hurried to the door, whispering the password as quikly as he ould and stepping inside, willio lose up behind him more quikly.
He olpsed against the door. Something about the whole ordeal made him want to ugh. Potter had been bak for less than a day ahihe way they were. Potter to something and Drao was takial notes on him. In shool, he never would have owo it, but with o fool, he would admit noent most of his time otter whehought he washed. He used tell himself it was beause informatiot him a long way with his father, but he hadn’t even onvihat oly beause he speime fabriating information for his father aing away the real things he saw beause he liked them better when they beloo him. Deep down in at the ore of his being, there had always been a longio Harry, to uand him further than they ways his family had taught him to.
hing Potter, simply beause it was what he had always done. Drao had missed it. His voie had ha, deeper tha, but still Harry. Drao hukled to himself, leaning his head bak agaione. All ed a bit. His hair was still a mess, messier, if possible, and still just as maddening as it had been in shool. He still wore those ridiulous irur wire rimmed gsses that Drao doubted had ever really been in fashion, but they were a bit more expensive-looking now. His lothes fit better than they ever had in shool, a fat Drao ouldn’t ategorize as better or worse beause he ould see just how fit Potter as very. He was still short, or at least shorter than Drao. The st time he had seen Harry, he had only had about half an inh on him, but he had growhree ihe year he “died,” mathing his father’s six foot stature. He k would have bothered Harry, if he ould have seen.
&ed Harry to see. See that Drao was taller tha he had ha he was sorry. That he missed him, too. More than anything. He shook his head, feeling a sudden sink in his gut. What was MGonagall thinking, putting Potter so lose to him? He was goio be better about hiding with Potter ile beause, as MGonagall had expeted, his penhant f had not dimih age. What she hadn’t fatored in, a expeted, was how hard it would be for him to hide, beause it seem his snooping would be Malfoy-e know how many times he ould find Harry iside his door before he revealed himself. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be muh longer.
Chapter 4
It id. The whole thing id. Harry th the door of Snape’s—his —study ahe bak suite, whih housed his bathroom and bedroom, yanking off his gsses haphazardly as he did so.
&. He hadn’t.
But he had. He ran his hand over his fae and into his hair. He had felt something, someone.
No, you hope you felt something. You wanted so badly to feel something that you did, he thought to himself i sounded oddly like Hermione’s.
Hogwarts’ hauntings were so fmboyant that the i ould hardly have bee had alrised him abhost he had ehey seemed so muh like real people, only…less. iies nonsense Muggles seemed so keen on. But this had felt like something of that eyes o a sik, prikly feeling, almost like eletriity ihe way he felt when someone so badly wao ask you somethitention, but was waiting for you to make the first move. He felt it, but he had seen nothing. He supposed it was entirely pusible that ghosts ould make themselves as visible or ihey wis