The Other Side

Chapter Fifteen

The pain was excruciating. Withdrawal from addiction wasn't easy, and the intense throbbing he felt in his head was worse. He couldn't focus, because even if the addiction was wearing off gradually, he felt the need to consume the vials after his panic attacks, and the desperation was overwhelming.

He exhaled relentlessly, as he turned his attention towards his copy of advanced potion making, ignoring the way his heart was reverberating in his throat.

"Potter," Draco said, biting his lip to hold back a chuckle. "Can you focus over here? I could use some help, so quit skimming through that god-awful book and pass me the peppermint."

Harry cringed, and passed the peppermint to the blond, fixing his gaze on him. He was focused on brewing the potion, with few locks falling on his face, and he resisted the urge to place them behind his ear. Draco's lips curved into a smile, and he turned his eyes towards Harry.

"You're not helping." He said, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why do you look at me that way? As if I am the only thing in the world?"

"I don't know how else to look at you, Malfoy." He said and could evidently see the blush rise on the pale cheeks. "You are the only thing in the world, aren't you?"

Harry raised his eyebrow, and Draco suppressed his smile. "Piss off, Potter."

"Why do you keep calling me 'Potter' even now?" He asked curiously. "I get that you loathed me before, and we weren't exactly on first name basis, but now that we're past our rivalry, can you at least call me by my first name?"

"I'll do whatever I please," He said, pausing for a moment. "Potter."

"You say it differently," Harry realized, and a smile made its way across his face. "So, if you're serious you call me by my name, and if you're being your usual arrogant self, then I'm Potter, is it?"

Draco pressed his lips together, fighting the smile that was slowly forming on his face. "Yes. You're ridiculous, you know?"

"You're discovering this now?"

"I've known for a while," He smirked, stirring that cauldron anti-clockwise. "But you don't cease to surprise me with how utterly infuriating you can be."

"Mm," He said, and Draco returned to the potion. He watched him, as he brewed the potion with concentration. Harry tucked the strands of blond hair behind his ear and Draco closed his eyes, clearing his throat.

"I didn't ask you to tempt me, Potter." He said, slowly. "Don't distract me, and let me perfect this potion or I'll kick your arse."

"You won't. You love my arse."

"I- No, I-I okay," He stammered, and then drew his lips in a thin line. "FUCK YOU."

"Gladly."

"You're so ridiculously infuriating, Potter."

Harry smiled, and turned his attention towards the book. It was oddly satisfying to get under Malfoy's nerves, especially when he was so focused on a task at hand. Sighing contentedly, he skimmed through the pages, and frowned. He closed his eyes, and tried to read again. He couldn't focus or stop the feeling of panic slowly overtaking him again. It was like watching a train-wreck in slow motion.

The words were shuffling, and he couldn't read. It made no sense whatsoever, as he constantly attempted to make out the words on the page. He felt too hot but too cold, and he couldn't breathe. It's familiar in a terrifying way, his breathing shallow and fast, impersonating the tempo of his heart.

"It's a dream," He murmured to himself. "It's a dream."

The words were falling out of the page, at a slow place. His mouth was dry, and yet it felt like it was filling with water, like he was choking on it. His face felt too hot, his skin burning. His mouth was open, sucking in short breathes and the air tasted wrong, tasted poisonous, but he needed it, his lungs were screaming for it. His chest felt tight, constricted, like it was weighing down too much to get a proper lungful of air.