ambitious, cunning, adaptable | hp x dm

chapter forty four: the great rita skeeter

"How'd you do it then?"

"I told you, I didn't enter my name into the stupid Tournament!"

Draco's face was disbelieving and Harry glared at him as he threw off his shoes in an attempt for bed. They had been fighting for the past three hours and Harry's headache was rapidly getting from completely unbearable to blinding.

"You could have at least offered to put my name in too!"

"Well if you want the fame so much we'll talk to Dumbledore in the morning and you can gladly take my place! You of all people should know that I hate being looked at. That I despise being noticed. That more than anything I want to sink into the background and be just Harry! You'd think it would have sunk into that squishy brain of yours by now!"

"And take away your precious time from that Hufflepuff and listen to you prattle on about him even more?! I don't think so!"

"So that's what this is about! You're angry I like a boy!"

"That isn't even the point! I don't care if you want to go shagging anyone you want. I'm just saying that not only is he the enemy and you're opposition, he's the true Hogwarts Champion, as much as I hate to admit it."

Harry reeled back as if he'd been slapped and stared at Draco with disbelief. "Wow. All of a sudden people look at me and not you and this is how you act. I...." Harry grabbed his pajamas and balled them up. "I thought we were friends."

"Yeah, well... Friends share."

Harry shook his head and bit his lip. He had done everything he could to try and appease Draco and none of it was working. "You know what, Malfoy? Piss off." With that he turned on his heel and stomped his way to the showers.

Draco stared at Harry's bed and felt everything inside of him twist and break. He dropped onto his bed and spelled the curtains closed and silent. He rolled onto his side and then onto his stomach and pulled the covers over his head. Why couldn't he just tell Harry the truth?

⚯͛

"I'm sorry, Harry, there's nothing we can do about the Tournament." Dumbledore's voice was sad and resigned. "The rules and magic are clear. You are a Champion."

"Then I'm dead." Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands. "I can't do half the spells that the others can."

"Stop being so dramatic, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. Harry wondered how it was possible such a sarcastic tone could be so comforting. "Do not think that the Headmaster nor I would let you go in unprepared. Along with our sessions on Saturday, we will also meet on Tuesdays. During these times instead of focusing on advanced potions, I will run through more advanced Defensive and Charms magic with you. While I am unable to give you notice of the tasks ahead of time, I can give you an arsenal to protect yourself."

Harry nodded slowly and gave a wan smile. "Thank you."

Dumbledore nodded his head again. "Thank you, Harry, now why don't you go down to breakfast with your friends."

Harry stood, knowing he was dismissed and made his way towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

He later wished he hadn't.

Upon entering the Hall, his first instinct was to go sit next to Draco. He was nearly there when the blonde whirled around to scowl at him. Harry's heart took residence somewhere in his stomach and he looked away quickly.

Because Pansy was across from Draco (and looking a mix of confused and angry), Harry got a spot in between Blaise and Millicent. Both seemed vaguely irritated with the fight and spent the lunch period trying to talk about anything else. After a while, Harry realized they'd also been trying to distract him.