Bitter Transmutation : Cruel Transformation || Drarry

Part 12

Draco got ready for bed, putting on Potter's t-shirt and silk sleep pants. He folded Potter's jumper and put it beside his pillow, even though he knew there was a risk Potter would see, he was starting not to care. Mostly because predicting Potter's reactions seemed impossible.

Potter had confirmed all of Draco's worst fears, that is was pity and guilt and his stupid hero complex, but then he refused to leave, and gave Draco his jumper on top of that. He had teased Draco about keeping his robe but still hadn't taken his t-shirt back. Every time Draco thought he knew what Potter was thinking, he did something that made Draco question it all over again.

Potter had said he wanted to be friends. Perhaps that was it. He truly pitied Potter's friends if Potter was always this confusing. He pitied himself for being jealous of them anyway.

Draco pulled his comforter up to his chin, turning on his side so he could see Potter's jumper and leaving the lumos on beside his bed.

Soon, Draco would have what he suspected was his last fever and there would be no reason for either of them to stay in this tower. Then Draco would see if Potter really wanted to be his friend, when every other person he saw hated him and the rest did their best to pretend he didn't exist.

-

-

"Malfoy?"

Draco frowned, grumbling as he tried to pretend he was still asleep.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked again, amused, "Your breakfast is downstairs. I'm gonna go, but I wanted to let you know I'll be back as soon as classes are out."

"Go away," Draco muttered, shoving his face into his pillow.

"Good morning to you too," Potter said. "See you later, alright?"

Draco made a noise at him. He didn't move until Potter had closed the hatch behind him and was headed down the tower. When he finally pried his eyes open, he found, to his horror, that he was clutching Potter's jumper to his chest like a security blanket.

He groaned even louder and pulled his blankets over his head to better languish in his complete and utter embarrassment.

-

-

Draco ignored his notes and classwork after he finished his late breakfast, searching through the stacks of books he had somehow accumulated in his room until he found the one with the worn red cover. There was no title stamped on the cover or spine, the title page inside simple said 'Veela'. He pushed his pillow up and sat on his bed, opening to the first page and started reading.

-

-

"Malfoy?" Potter called, a moment later coming up the stairs, "You're still in bed?"

"Yes," Draco said, not bother to look up.

"Did you get out of bed at all today?" Potter asked.

"For food," Draco said.

"Do you have a fever? It's too early for a bad one, right? But sometimes you get smaller ones-"

"No," Draco marked his place with his finger and looked up, "I was just reading the book the veela left."

"She has a name," Potter said.

Draco shrugged.

"It's..." Potter frowned, "It started with an M."

"You don't know it either," Draco said, "acting all high and mighty."

"I used to know, which is more than you can say," Potter said, dropping his bag on the floor and collapsing back into the chair beside the bed.