Scared Potter? (Drarry fanfiction)

Neville - Chapter 12

It had been two weeks. Two weeks of walking into his friends their footsteps. He was nervous and afraid – knowing Draco held on to critical information that could destroy him. Harry couldn't afford himself to walk alone through these halls again. Not now he'd been encountering severe loneliness in his past. People couldn't believe him, that time his name got spilled out of the goblet of fire. They didn't want to believe him, how Voldemort made his return. And still many people doubted his sanity to this day.

Ever since his fight with Draco, Hermione and Ron were acting highly unusual. Not only because Hermione seemed to be clutched against his arm, but also because of their bad excuses – probably to get rid of him. Harry tried to find himself company between the shelves of the library, but couldn't find joy in reading any of his picked out books. Hermione was known for making the library a better place – knowing he could count on her whenever they had a test. He would mostly sit at a desk, Ronald at his side, drawing offensive creatures representing awful teachers while Hermione sighed and puffed at the books she'd been reading a hundred times.

Now he sat alone, his arms creating a wall around his parchment – scrabbled with terrible humourless characters he used to cry about with his other half, Ron.

"Harry," a voice interrupted the sky. "Is it true?"

Harry slowly lifted his chin, his head heavy. It was Neville, approaching him with some kind of plant drooling against his chest.

"Cheers," Harry muttered, his face full of disgust. Terrible, how he graved great care for the most hideous looking creatures – thus only plants. Neville seemed to find some kind of interest in Harry's disgusted expression, and so he couldn't keep himself from forgetting the original subject, and beginning to rant over his weird ass cactus.

'This is a Mimbulus Mimbletonia. It's a very rare-"

"Is what true, Neville?" Harry raised his brows curiously, pretending to search through the pages of the book he pretended to read. Neville seemed to be out of breath, and steadied himself against Harry's desk, shaking his head as he put his "plant-thing" down.

"You and Malfoy?"

Harry couldn't breathe. His cheeks fluttered bright red, and his book became of sudden interest. "Sorry, wh-what? Malfoy?" He scoffed, avoiding any eye contact. "What about him?" He couldn't afford it to speak out the word us.

"Are you two really..."

"-Gay?" Harry scoffed once more, shutting his book with great force. He could barely breath.

"What?" Neville laughed nervously. "No. Duelling. Friday night?"

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and take a deep breath again. "Not that I know of," he replied. "Who told you that?"

"A group of Slytherins. They are outside. They obviously didn't tell me..." He batted his eyes defeated; knowing no one ever would, and thumbed the tip of his tongue along his chapped lips. "Malfoy seems very confident about it. I shouldn't go if I were you."

"Of course you wouldn't, Neville."

Harry quickly gathered his stuff, gritting his teeth together as he allowed his single book to fly back to its original spot. "I need to find Ron and Hermione. Have you seen 'em?"

"Eh," Neville took his plant back in his arms, and shrugged.

"You've been of great value, Neville," Harry replied surprisingly uplifted – tapping his shoulder as he left.

"Sure?" Neville replied – full of relieve.

Who knew what Harry was up to?