BEAUTIFUL DISASTERS ｢DRARRY｣

PART 14

This time, he didn't even knock.

Instead, he simply walked in, knowing damn well that McGonagall would be sitting at her desk as usual, waiting for him with biscuits. And sure enough, as he entered into the Headmistress' office, she was right there, already looking at him.

"Hello, Harry," she greeted, and Harry couldn't help but smile lightly at the fact that she no longer called him Potter. After all their sessions, he would he was much more comfortable around her. It was nothing like it was with Draco, but he did find her okay and even sometimes even fun to talk to. While Draco was like that one good friend that he'd been missing out on during his time at the orphanage, McGonagall was like that gentle grandma that always brought sweets but could definitely kick someone's ass if needed.

"Hello, Headmistress," he greeted with a shy smile, sitting down in his usual chair. "What's the topic for today?" He asked. "Last time, you told me about horcruxes."

Normally, he'd spend the entire week between their sessions thinking about what she told him and trying to put the puzzle pieces together. This week, however, he somehow didn't find the time to. In between watching Draco teach and goofing around with him and attending his own private lessons, he found his thoughts lingered more on Draco himself than horcruxes and wizarding wars.

After all, Draco was his first good friend ever. It was only natural that he couldn't take his mind off him; he really turned Harry's life around, didn't he?

But this was here and now, and he faintly remembered their last discussion about horcruxes and Voldemort. He remembered McGonagall telling him that they were about half way through.

"Yes, we left at horcruxes," she said with a nod. "Today I'll be telling you how each was destroyed, except for one that'll be left for a later date."

Harry shifted in his seat, excited. It felt like they were finally getting somewhere.

"The first horcrux to be destroyed was the diary of Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort. It was destroyed by Neville Longbottom in his second year. The diary had targeted Ginevra Weasley and used her almost as a pawn, possessing her. The bit of Tom Riddle in the diary became stronger because of her, although of course she was doing it unknowingly. Neville, since he spoke Parseltongue, later found the chamber of secrets. Long story short, he killed a basilisk, rescued Ginny, and destroyed the horcrux without really knowing what it was."

Harry raised an eyebrow. Second year? So Neville killed a piece of Voldemort's soul, and he was only 12 years old? "But why did he speak Parseltongue? Draco—" his heart fluttered for a beat at the memory of them sitting under the sun together, "—told me he was a Gryffindor."

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, he really was incredibly brave, sometimes infuriatingly so. As I told you last time, he was accidentally made into a horcrux, so he had a portion of Voldemort's soul, and therefore he had his ability to speak it. Voldemort was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin; he could speak it, and therefore, Neville could too."

Harry nodded. This whole horcrux thing was making him dizzy—how on earth do you split your soul eight different ways?

"The next horcrux to be destroyed was Marvolo Gaunt's ring. He was the grandfather of Tom Riddle. This ring was destroyed by Albus Dumbledore. The next few were all destroyed by Neville and his friends, Ronald and Hermione.

"The first to go was Slytherin's locket, which was destroyed by the sword of Gryffindor. You see, the only things that can destroy a horcrux are a basilisk fang and fiendfyre. However, the sword was forged with basilisk venom, therefore it could also destroy a horcrux. Next was Hufflepuff's Cup, which they stole from a Gringotts vault using a dragon to escape."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "They broke into Gringotts? And escaped on a dragon?"

McGonagall laughed quietly. "Those three could never do anything quietly," she said, and Harry smiled. She really was like a grandma, wasn't she? Always taking care of her kids, loving them even when they managed to cause mayhem?

"The next was Ravenclaw's Diadem. It was found in the Room of Requirement. Draco's friends from the past cast a fiendfyre that destroyed the whole room including the Diadem, as well as almost killing Draco and the three."

Harry raised his eyebrows even further—Draco had never been a topic for discussion. "He didn't... he didn't try to kill them himself, did he?" He asked, although he felt that he couldn't. Draco couldn't kill anyone. He was so well put together and exuded power and order, but Harry couldn't believe that he could hurt someone. After all, Harry only sprained an ankle the other day, and Draco looked much more concerned than he ought to have been.

McGonagall paused at his question. "From what I've been told, he told his friends not to kill him, but... who knows," she carefully said, and Harry noticed her hesitation.

"Was Draco... on the bad side? What was his role?" He tried to slip the question in, remembering that she had denied him the answer over and over again.

He wasn't even surprised when she shook her head. "That is not my story to tell," she said. Harry sighed—he'd been expecting exactly that.

"The last horcrux was Nagini, Voldemort's snake. It was killed by Ronald Weasley during the Battle of Hogwarts using the sword of Gryffindor. As I'll explain next time, Neville was not able to do it himself at the time."

Harry knew from her mention of next time that this was it, this would be where she left off. With a sigh, he stood up. McGonagall's eyes followed him in amusement.

"Don't want to stay and chat, hm? Is your partner waiting for you?" She said, and it was the first time Harry heard her tease anyone.

Nonetheless, he blushes pathetically, knowing entirely well who she was referring to. "He's not my partner," he managed to say, although the thought made him warm up a bit inside.

McGonagall shrugged. "Whatever you say, Harry. Go on, then, you don't want to keep him waiting."

Within minutes, Harry was walking down the corridors of Hogwarts, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his robes. Why on earth was he nervous? Draco was familiar, Draco was his friend. What McGonagall said wasn't true and wouldn't be. Draco was his friend.

Those thoughts went away, however, when he slipped into Draco's Potions class. Harry couldn't help but notice over the past few times he spent here that Draco really has loosened up a bit. He smiled sometimes, and once he even told a pun. Now, as he slipped into his seat, he saw Draco's eyes being drawn to his, and he watched as Draco smiled.

McGonagall was wrong. Draco was his friend.

He tried paying attention—really, he did. This was a fifth year class and he seriously should have been listening. But how could he, when Draco's lips kept curling when two months ago they refused to? How could he, when Draco didn't have bags under his eyes and instead looked more vibrant than normal?

Draco was okay, he realized. For a long time, he's known that Draco was hiding something. He's always known that it was something bad, judging by the bags under his eyes and how on some days he just couldn't smile. But here he was today, face glowing without any bags in sight, a crooked smile sometimes plastered onto his face. Draco was okay, he realized, and the thought of the improvement made his toes curl with excitement. Draco was okay.

Was McGonagall really wrong?