HP one shots

Silently Pleading // NottPott

Summary:

Harry won't let Voldemort steal and enslave the wizard he loves.

Notes:

This is old AF. It was originally written over a decade ago. Due to a colossal amount of requests, I've decided to archive my old pseudonym fics on Ao3. I've not edited it since it was originally posted.
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Harry instinctively tightened his grasp on his wand as Draco Malfoy approached him after Care of Magical Creatures drew to a close. There was something different about him. His eyes were fiercer than Harry had ever seen them, his muscles clenching with every step he took, and his lips were curled in a patronizing smirk.

But Harry could see the worry hidden beneath the smirk. Malfoy was smirking to keep from grimacing. He'd been studying his rival for six years now, and he'd always been observant. He'd never seen an expression remotely resembling this one on Malfoy's face.

"Potter," Draco said bitingly, "I require a moment of your time." His arms hung at his sides, trying to convey calmness, though he was clearly agitated.

"Oi, ferret, stay the bleeding hell away from—"

"Ron, stop it! Let's just go, Harry," Hermione said quickly. She glared over at Ron for trying to start yet another fight with the Slytherin.

"Listen, Weasel, I—" Harry saw the way Malfoy's right cheek flexed, and didn't doubt for a moment that Malfoy had bitten it so that he wouldn't piss Harry off by insulting his friends. Malfoy took a deep breath and continued as though Ron hadn't interrupted, "Potter, a moment of your time?"

Ron's wand was in his hand and aimed at Malfoy's face a moment later. "You don't get to order Harry around you—" His words abruptly halted as he stared at the hand that was grasping his wrist in disbelief. His eyes trailed along the arm and connected with Harry's. "Mate?"

Harry shook his head slightly and pressed on Ron's wrist, forcing him to lower his wand. Ron might not have heard the slight questioning tone, but Harry had. It hadn't been an order; it'd been a request. He released Ron's wrist entirely and gazed at Malfoy's face, wondering what the Slytherin could possibly need from him.

"Sure thing, Malfoy." He noticed the look of relief that flashed through gray eyes and turned to leave, knowing that Malfoy would follow him.

"Mate, are you bloody mental? It's the ferret! He's going to curse you!" Ron hollered as his face turned red with rage.

"Harry, are you sure this is prudent?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't it be safer for us to accompany you?"

Harry looked over at Malfoy and saw the boy was biting the inside of his cheek once again. "It'll be fine. Go on ahead. I'll see you at lunch."

"But Harry, it's Malfoy!" Ron snapped.

"I said it'll be fine," Harry repeated slowly and seriously. He didn't know what Malfoy wanted with him, but that look in Malfoy's eyes and the rigidity in his body told Harry this wasn't a prank or a cruel trap. Malfoy needed something from him—Harry Potter. If Malfoy hadn't seemed so desperate and serious, Harry would have laughed in his face.

But this, whatever it was, couldn't be good if it affected Malfoy on this level.

"Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked softly. She could sense the tension between Harry and Malfoy, but she had no idea what was happening. Her eyes traveled from Harry to Malfoy and then back again.

"Yes, Mione, I'm sure," he replied. He enunciated his words carefully, something he only did when he was getting irritated, and he watched Hermione's eyes widen slightly.