19 Years (HP - Drarry)

Chapter 45: Apologies

Thursday, January 11, 2018

McGonagall left them in the entryway of the girls' house, shaking her head and muttering about being "too old for this." Harry remembered that Teddy was taking over her job; that she was retiring at the end of the year. He couldn't imagine it, somehow. Most of the people he remembered from his time at Hogwarts were gone, yes, but... McGonagall was different. She seemed essential, somehow, to the very existence of the school, as if without her it would crumble into dust. She was the linchpin - what would Hogwarts be without Minerva McGonagall?

Then the girls appeared, ushering them into the library and depositing them into comfy chairs, with tea and biscuits, and Harry could no longer distract himself with thoughts of McGonagall.

Draco was there.

Draco was there, and Harry couldn't escape him, this time.

Luna said something, and Harry turned to look at her, but his gaze froze as it passed over Draco. He looked terrible. Harry felt a sharp pang of guilt as he realized that he was the cause. He'd been trying to protect Draco - and himself, he supposed, if he was honest - not hurt him.

"Harry!" Luna exclaimed, exasperated. "Pay attention!"

"Sorry," he said, flushing slightly and squirming in his seat. He'd been trying. Really he had. But... Draco.

Draco was staring at him.

Draco flushed - prettily, Harry's brain supplied - and looked away.

Then Harry noticed that everybody else was leaving.

"Wait," he said, frowning, "where are you going?"

Hermione sighed, Pansy snickered; Luna turned to regard him steadily. "That isn't the right question, Harry. It doesn't matter. The important thing, for you, is that you aren't going anywhere until you sort this out."

She winked slyly at them - which, coming from Luna, was worrying in itself - and slipped out the door, shutting it with a very solid-sounding click behind her.

Draco shot out of his seat and ran to the door - but no matter how he tugged on it, it didn't budge. "Spelled," he muttered. He pulled out his wand, shot several spells at the door in quick succession. Harry only recognized some of them.

Harry groaned, sinking lower in his seat and putting his hand over his eyes. "You won't be able to open it. Not if Hermione's had a hand in locking it."

Draco slumped to the floor, melting in a surprisingly graceful puddle where he stood. "Great," he muttered, "just great."

Harry shook himself, shoving the irrational jealousy away. "They'll have locked us in here for a reason," he said, cracking his knuckles as he thought. "Probably to force us to talk things over."

"Would that be so bad?"

The quiet words knifed through him, forcing him to catch his breath. He paused in the act of stretching, arms frozen above his head.

Draco looked over at him, and his eyes widened as they flicked down Harry's chest and then hastily away. "Well?"

"I - no. I suppose not."

"Better than avoiding each other?" Draco's tone was laced with bitterness.

Harry sighed. "Malfoy -"

"Look. Potter. Don't worry about it, OK? Just go take a nap or something. I'll let you know when they come back to let us out, or I figure out how to get us out." He waved a hand dismissively at the couch, and Harry bristled.