How to Save a Life

Draco scowled as he took in the image in the mirror. He had been horrified to find that the sickly looking creature reflected there, was in fact, him.

Draco looked like crap; there was no other word for it. He ducked his head and splashed cold water over his face. But after rechecking his reflection, he found it had made very little difference, apart from the fact that he was now wet.

There was a soft tap on the bathroom door, and before he could raise an objection at the interruption, the door opened and Pansy slid inside.

“I might have known I’d find you in front of a mirror,” she teased.

Draco smiled weakly in return.

“I sent the others off to breakfast,” she continued, walking closer as she spoke.

“Sorry. I didn’t realise it was that late.”

Pansy shrugged. “It’s OK. You know Blaise and his stomach. I swear he was looking at the first years as if they were big hams.”

Pansy hopped up onto the vanity unit at the side of the sink. She reached out her hands and began to straighten his tie.

“Draco,” she began.

“Don’t, Pansy. Please.”

Pansy’s heart ached at the pain and hurt that she could see swimming in her friend’s eyes. But she pressed on regardless.

“Just let me say one thing, and then I’ll shut up. Promise.”

Without waiting for approval, Pansy plunged headlong into her speech. “I know that I can’t begin to understand how you’re feeling right now, and I won’t lie to you that everything will be OK. But…Just don’t bury it, please? It’s probably too soon, and I know you think it’s a sign of weakness, but you need to talk about it to someone. You’ll only hurt yourself if you let it fester.”

She slid off the counter top and brushed a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear. “I’m not saying you have to talk to me. But just so you know, if you want to talk, I’m here. No opinions, no judgements, just to listen.”

Draco leant in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “Thanks. I’ll bear it in mind.”

Then, turning back to face his reflection, Draco groaned. “I can’t go out there looking like this. I look like I haven’t slept in days.”

Pansy refrained from pointing out that this was because he hadn’t. She simply brandished her wand with a devilish gleam in her eye. “That, Drakie, is why you have me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry voiced the idea of not going down to breakfast on Monday morning, Neville was quick to put his foot down. He pointed out that Harry was only prolonging the inevitable, and that he may as well just get it over with.

Harry caved in the face of his friend’s persistence, and thought longingly of the days when Neville had been scared of his own shadow.

Harry lingered as long as he dared in the bathroom, hoping that the other boy would simply get fed up of waiting. A quick look at his reflection showed that, although the swelling around his lip and eye had gone down, the bruises were still a rather vivid shade of purple. He toyed with the idea of casting a Glamour, but he had left his wand in the bedroom, and Harry knew that fetching it would just bring on another of Neville’s strictures on how he had done nothing to be ashamed of.

Re-entering the bedroom, Harry was surprised to see that not only had Neville waited for him, but that Dean and Seamus were still there also. Seeing the stunned look on his face, the other three boys simply grinned.

“W-What are you still doing here?” Harry managed to say at last.

“You didn’t think we’d let you face the vultures by yourself, did you?” Dean stood up and walked over to Harry, clapping him on the shoulder. “Anyone tries to have a go at you, they’ll have to get past us first.”

“Yeah,” Seamus piped up. “Think of us as your bodyguards, if you will.” The Irish boy folded his arms across his chest and struck, what he obviously thought was, a menacing pose.

“Yes,” Dean sniggered. “Anyone comes close and Seamus will just start humping them. That ought to be enough to put even the most determined person off.”

Even Harry managed to raise a weak smile at this good-natured teasing. Despite the dread that filled him at the thought of leaving his sanctuary, the obvious support of his friends caused warmth to spread through his chest, dulling the icy grip of panic. He turned to face Neville, who was stood waiting by the door.

Neville just shrugged helplessly. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “It was all their idea. I have no control over them.”

Harry managed his first real smile in days. “Thanks, guys.”

As Harry and his new-found entourage made their way down towards the Great Hall, they found that Luna was stood by the large wooden doors, waiting for them. As she clasped hands with her boyfriend, her face still held its usual dreamlike expression. She gazed at Harry with wide eyes and smiled gently.

“I thought I’d offer my support,” she said.

Harry found himself waiting for her to follow this up with some outrageous remark about saving him from Nargles, but none came. “Thank you,” he replied softly, before turning, nervously, to face the entrance.

Harry felt the eyes of the school turn on him as he entered the room. But his friends ranged themselves around him, protecting him from the intense scrutiny. He found himself ushered to the Gryffindor table where, once again, they arranged themselves so that they buffered him from his other housemates.

As grateful as he was for his friends’ blatant support, Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to join in their happy banter, however much they tried to draw him in. Instead, he concentrated on filling his plate with food, and steadfastly ignoring the intense glares that he could feel burning into him from all sides of the Hall.

The only pair of eyes that he wanted to be watching him were determinedly looking anywhere but in his direction.

Harry couldn’t help but watch Draco. He peeked over at the other boy through his thick lashes, hoping desperately for some sign of recognition. Even a glare would have been better than watching his boyfriend - ex-boyfriend, he corrected himself - chatting and laughing with his housemates, as if he had not a care in the world.

Only Pansy seemed to be aware of Harry’s longing gaze. The dark-haired girl looked up and gave a small, sympathetic smile in his direction, and Harry felt slightly relieved that not everyone in Slytherin house hated him.

He wasn’t the only one to notice Pansy gesture of support, though. Harry watched as Draco firmly set his goblet down and turned to face his friend. Harry was too far away to hear what was said, but the laughter had gone from those beloved eyes as they narrowed into a fierce glare. Few words were said, but from Pansy’s expression, he could tell that they had not been pleasant.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pansy held her tongue as Draco berated her forcefully. As a fiercely independent girl, there was no way that anyone, not even her best friend, was going to tell her whom she could, or could not acknowledge.

However, she let it go on this occasion, understanding that Draco’s feelings about Harry were still very raw and he was just lashing out blindly. She just nodded and smiled sweetly, before continuing with her breakfast. She couldn’t resist a tiny smirk at the baffled look on her friend’s face when she didn’t argue back.

Pansy caught Blaise’s eye and the Italian boy gave a nod of approval for her tactics. They had both known Draco nearly their entire lives. It was a friendship that was fraught with potential minefields where the volatile blond was concerned. Both Pansy and Blaise had, out of necessity, learned very early on how to handle their friend carefully.

The trouble was that Pansy now considered Harry to be a friend, and a very good one at that. There were things she had shared with him that even Draco didn’t know. In the few short months of their friendship, she had come to value him as much as she did her oldest friends.

With Harry, there was never any hidden agenda, or ulterior motive; what you saw, was what you got. And that was why this current situation didn’t sit right with her. Not just because she knew how straightforward and honest Harry was, but because she had seen for herself how totally smitten with Draco he was.

Pansy wanted to believe Harry, and for the most part, she did. The only tiny doubt she had was the memory of Hermione’s words ‘we saw you’. Pansy had no trouble accepting that Ginny Weasley was a bare-faced liar, and even her brother, given the right circumstances, could probably be persuaded to back up a falsehood. But Hermione was an entirely different case altogether. Try as she might, Pansy could not get her head around the idea that the Head Girl was lying.

The trouble, then, was that one of them had to be. Hermione and Harry couldn’t both be telling the truth, could they? Pansy wasn’t sure, but, as she observed the unhappy expressions on the faces of two of her closest friends, she decided that she was damn well going to find out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite outward appearances, Draco was dreading the forthcoming Potions lesson with the same intensity as Harry. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to acknowledge the other boy’s presence in any way, shape, or form.

Only the burning of his anger had allowed him to come out of their last confrontation with his self-respect intact. He doubted that even his ice Malfoy façade would survive another such encounter.

Draco was still angry at Harry, but more than anything, he was angry with himself. Because, try as he might, he could not bring himself to hate his ex-boyfriend. He was beginning to realise that love was not something you could turn off as required, and for that, he cursed his weakness for allowing himself to become so emotionally attached to another person.

So it was with much apprehension that Draco entered the Potions classroom for his first lesson with the Gryffindor since their fight. The first thing he noticed was that Harry had moved to a seat at the front of the class. He had seated himself next to Ernie Macmillan, the lone Hufflepuff amongst all the other houses.

Draco’s instinctive emotion was relief. Relief that Harry hadn’t assumed his usual spot next to Pansy. The next feeling he had was a faint flicker of guilt as he noticed the bruises that he had inflicted in his anger. Lastly, and most surprisingly to Draco, was a wave of jealousy as he watched the fair-haired boy eyeing Harry speculatively.

Draco shook his head. ‘Stop it,’ he instructed himself silently. ‘Don’t look at him; he betrayed you.’ He made his way over to his seat next Blaise and sat down, trying his best to ignore the yawning empty next to Pansy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Harry had thought that seeing Draco breakfast was difficult, he was finding it infinitely more difficult to sit just a few short feet away from him during Potions.

He had forsaken his usual spot amidst the Slytherins, for both his and Pansy’s sakes. His initial thought had been to sit there anyway, to force Draco to acknowledge him in some way. But after what had happened at breakfast, Harry didn’t want to put the Slytherin girl in such an awkward position

Also, Harry wasn’t really sure that he wanted to provoke Draco. The last thing he needed was a replay of that ugly scene that had taken place in the dungeons only a few nights ago.

Harry tried his best to concentrate on Professor Slughorn’s lecture on Blood Replenishing Potions, but his heart really wasn’t in it. Plus, it was especially difficult to focus when he could feel eyes boring into him from both sides of the room.

Ernie was pleasant enough company. But, come the practical part of the lesson, he became just a little too tactile for Harry’s liking. A fact that had not gone unnoticed.

Harry made his way to the store cupboard to get some more Mugwort. He was in that much of a world of his own, that he didn’t notice a certain blond person treading the same path in front of him. When Harry entered the cupboard, he was alarmed to find Draco already in there.

“I see you didn’t waste anytime, Potter. Decided you do like cock after all, then?”

Harry flushed red and cast a quick, wary glance over his shoulder.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Draco continued scathingly. “Your dirty little secret is still safe.”

Harry wiped his sweaty palms on his robes and licked his lips nervously. “There’s nothing going on between me and Ernie,” he said softly.

“Of course,” Draco snorted. “Just like there was nothing going on with you and the Weasley slut.”

That stung Harry. “It’s the truth,” he retorted hotly. “I never touched her. For Merlin’s sake, Draco, I love you.”

He watched as the colour drained from the other boy’s face. “Don’t say that,” Draco replied icily. Pushing the door open, the blond turned to leave.

“Wait!” Harry instinctively grabbed hold of Draco’s wrist. “Please,” he added.

Draco merely looked at Harry’s hand as if it was something particularly nasty and then met his earnest gaze with an unreadable expression.

“Don’t ever touch me again.” He flung Harry’s hand off and made to exit the cupboard.

“Draco…”

The blond paused and spoke without turning round. “It’s Malfoy to you, Potter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe the nerve of him,” Draco complained later that evening. He was sat, as usual, in his favourite fireside chair, with his friends ranged round him; a bottle of Ogden’s in his hand.

The comment came completely out of the blue, and his four friends eyed each other warily, fully aware of who ‘him’ was. Since their fight, Draco had not allowed mention of Harry’s name, and had, himself, acted as though his ex-boyfriend didn’t exist.

“Who are you talking about, sweetie?” Pansy enquired, realising none of the others were going to enter the conversation.

“Potter,” Draco spat, a scowl firmly in place. “He was practically all over Macmillan in Potions this morning.”

As Pansy was trying her best to come up with a response to this, clearly untrue, statement, Theo Nott beat her to it.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco. You know he only sat there to avoid you. And judging from the state of him today, I doubt Harry even noticed that Macmillan was there half the time.”

“Oh, it’s Harry, is it?” Draco asked icily as he leant forward to pass the Firewhisky to Blaise. “Since when have you been on first name terms with Potter?”

“Since you started shagging him and insisted on it,” Theo shot back.

“Fuck you, Nott!” Draco rose from his seat with as much dignity as a large amount of Firewhisky would allow. He snatched the bottle back out of Blaise’s hands. “I’ll have that back,” he snapped. Without another word, he stalked in the direction of the boys’ dormitory.

“Nice going, Theo,” Blaise muttered. “That was the last of the alcohol.”

Theo simply shrugged. “It’s not my fault he can’t handle the truth.”

“But you know what Draco’s like,” Blaise whined. “You’ve known him long enough. Why do you provoke him all the time?”

“I’m not provoking him. But I refuse to baby him like you and Pansy do. He’s acted like an arse over this whole thing with Harry, and it’s about time someone told him that.”

“Since when did you become such a fan of Potter? You used to hate him nearly as much as Draco did.”

Theo rolled his eyes at this. “My father was a Death Eater. What did you expect?”

Tracey Davis chose this moment to sidle over and perch on the arm of her boyfriend’s chair. “Seamus told Daphne that Potter is a mess. He’s not sleeping or eating, and he’s had nothing to do with Ginny Weasley for days.”

“It’s a bit late for him to be staying away from that slut now, isn’t it?” Blaise stated, his temper rising slightly in defence of his friend. “The damage has already been done.”

“Do you really believe it?” Theo asked, leaning forward in his seat. “I mean, this is Harry Potter we’re talking about. He’s like that archetypal Gryffindor. He’s all noble and honourable, and all that crap.”

“He was seen,” Blaise replied stubbornly.

“What does Neville think?” Millicent enquired, deciding to join the conversation.

“He believes him,” Blaise answered shortly.

Pansy caught the tightness in his voice and looked over in concern. “You two aren’t fighting as well, are you?”

“Not fighting,” Blaise replied. “But it is awkward.”

Pansy nodded in understanding before getting to her feet. “I’m going to check on Draco,” she explained in response to her friend’s questioning stares.

It was usually wise to leave Draco alone for quite some time when he was in a mood, as the first person to approach him usually bore the brunt of his temper. But it was already late, and Blaise and Theo wanted to go to bed at some point. The loos of relief on their faces made Pansy smile.

“Cowards,” she teased.

“Slytherins,” they both corrected, in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As she pushed the door open quietly, Pansy was relieved to find that Draco was already in bed. Thinking he was sleeping, she turned to leave.

“I’m still awake, Pans,” came a muffled voice from behind the hangings.

Pansy walked closer and pulled back one of the green curtains. She perched on the edge of the bed and looked down at her friend. She noticed that Draco’s eyes looked suspiciously red, but wisely chose not to mention it.

Pansy reached out a hand and lightly stroked Draco’s blond locks. “You OK?” she questioned.

Draco nodded, but the almost-sad expression on his face was less than convincing. He rolled onto his back and looked up at his friend.

“Did I fuck up?” he asked quietly.

Pansy sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m not going to tell you how you should have handled it, when I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had happened to me.”

Draco remained quiet for a moment and just lay there thinking. Pansy waited patiently, all the while stroking his hair.

“I trusted him, you know? Fuck it! I would have trusted him with my life if I had to. I never imagined that he would…” Draco trailed off, seemingly unable to give voice to exactly what it was he thought Harry had done.

“Maybe he didn’t,” Pansy suggested carefully.

“You heard what Granger said; they saw him. Why would she lie?”

Pansy didn’t miss the almost pleading note to her friend’s tone, as if he were willing her to have an explanation. “I don’t know,” she murmured softly. “I wish I did.”

“Do you believe him, Pansy? Honestly?”

Pansy thought carefully before speaking. “I’m not sure. I want to believe him, and I think that a large part of me does. I don’t know what motive Granger would have for lying, but I just can’t imagine Harry cheating on you like that. Even a blind man could see how much he loved you.”

Draco snuggled deeper under his covers, his eyes fighting to stay open. “That’s what he said.”

“Who? Harry?”

Draco just nodded, and yawned at the same time.

“What did he say?” Pansy was more than a little confused.

“That he loved me,” Draco replied, in a tone that suggested he thought Pansy was rather stupid. “He came into the Potions storeroom while I was in there and tried to talk to me.”

“What did you say when he told you that?” Pansy asked, already dreading the answer.

“I told him to never say it again.” Draco looked so lost when he said this, that Pansy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I don’t want it to be true,” Draco whispered. “If he never loved me, then I haven’t lost anything, because it was never mine to start with. If I tell myself that everything between us was just a lie, it hurts, but it will be easier to get over. If I let myself believe that he does love me…Do you have any idea of how hard it would be to not just forgive him anything, just to have him back?”

Pansy struggled to make sense of Draco’s rationalisation; she couldn’t quite figure out why it would be so bad to just forgive Harry and have him back.

“I still have some pride,” Draco muttered, as if reading Pansy’s thoughts.

“But it’s not as comforting as a pair of strong arms, though, is it?”

Draco glared. “You’re not helping, Parkinson.”

“Would it be so bad to just talk to him? At least hear his side of things?” Pansy wheedled. “What have you got to lose?”

“I’ll think about it,” Draco replied grumpily. Pansy grinned in the darkness. Draco was always so much easier to persuade when he had had a drink. She just had to hope that he remembered this conversation in the morning.

She kissed him again. “Get some sleep,” she murmured against his cheek. Reaching into her pocket, Pansy pulled out a small glass vial and placed it on Draco’s bedside cabinet.

“Hangover Potion,” she explained. “Drink it when you get up, or you’ll be like a bitch with a sore head all day!”