𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐀 𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀

Chapter 24

Chapter Warnings: Angst, comfort, fluff

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The Veela Enigma

Chapter 24: Catharsis

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Within minutes of leaving Snape's classroom, Draco had a plan:

Take the Knight Bus to the Dursley's house, and hex those fucking muggles within an inch of their lives.

It was a good plan, Draco thought, as he stormed through the empty corridors of Hogwarts. Draco had toyed with the idea of Apparating first - he could sort of Apparate now. After all, he was of age, so his father had taught him the basics over the Christmas break. He didn't have his license though, and he wasn't all that convinced that he could Apparate from Scotland back down to England without any splinching.

No, the Knight Bus was a much safer option, and he didn't want anything stopping him from arriving at those muggles' house fully intact.

Draco reached his dragon portrait, spat out the password, and stormed inside. He quickly threw on a warm cashmere jumper over the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing and grabbed his boots from the closet. It was January in Scotland, and he still had to walk to Hogsmeade in order to catch the bus. He laced up the boots, pulled on the hat Harry had given him for his birthday, and then snatched up his weather-proof cloak from its spot on his chair.

He was in the processing of heading out the portrait, pulling on the cloak as he went, when he suddenly cursed loudly enough the make the dragon in his portrait snort fire in shock.

He had no idea where the Dursley's lived.

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Harry stood under the hot spray of the shower in Gryffindor tower, trying to let the water wash away his anger.

It wasn't working.

Just who the hell did Draco think he was? What made him think that he had the right to pry into Harry's deepest, darkest memories?

Ah, but if you had been honest with him all along, he wouldn't have had to pry, said the little voice of reason that lived in Harry's head.

"It was none of his business!" Harry practically snarled back, clenching his fists. "I would have told him eventually."

Sure you would have. The way you tell Ron and Hermione everything, right?

Harry hesitated. His best friends had repeatedly fought with him over keeping secrets from them.

"I don't have to tell people everything," Harry thought to himself defiantly. "I have the right to keep secrets if I want to."

The secrets you keep hurt you, and they hurt other people.

Harry shook the voice off angrily and reached for the shampoo. Some part of his mind decided this would be a great time to remember when he and Draco had showered together and he had washed Draco's hair. The look of bliss on Draco's face, whenever Harry's hands tangled in that soft, silky hair -

Harry grit his teeth and began washing his own hair, much more roughly than he had done to Draco.

"Fuck Draco," he thought, rising off. "I can't fucking trust him at all anymore." He reached for the conditioner that Draco had bought for him, sliding the slippery substance through his short, wet locks.

The same corner of his mind that reminded him of washing Draco's hair was now seriously contemplating the value of conditioner as a potential lubricant. It was slippery, not sudsy, and smelled good, but it did rinse away rather easily and then Draco might be left in an uncomfortable position and -