Nothing Left to Give // Drarry

Chapter 6- Something New

All previous thoughts went out the window after my brief encounter with Mr A and McGonagall. Once our classes were dropped off, I booked it down the corridor. No, I had no clue where he was going, but it couldn't have been far right?

I wish I could have heard his footsteps, then it would have been a thousand times easier to find him. I wasn't particularly worried about him having the book. Perhaps he would just let me borrow it, or maybe he knew where the other ones were.

There was one thing I knew. Mr A was fast. He was probably middle-aged, and he didn't seem like the runner type. I was running at full speed, going corridor by corridor and didn't even see a hint of him being there. Hogwarts is a huge castle, so it's not like he could have left.

I finally made it to the teachers' hallway and wondered if it would be weird to just knock on his private quarters. In the end, I went for it and rapped the door twice with my knuckles. After a few knocks you might have expected me to leave, but when have I been one to do that? So after muttering a quick Alohomora, I entered his living space.

The lights were off, which wasn't strange because it was night. I yelled his name a few times, but still nothing. I wouldn't give up though. I went to his bedroom and opened it. The bed was empty, in fact, it looked unused. The covers had dust on them and there wasn't a single wrinkle in them.

It was then I realized my utter stupidity. I had a map!

He was probably just going on a walk or meeting with somebody else. I remembered the map was in my cloak. So, I headed back to the library.

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Where was he?!

You can't apparate in Hogwarts and I knew no human alive could run that fast. I put my head down on the table and sighed. This was not the day I thought I would have. Classes started tomorrow, meaning Hermione wouldn't be much help. even if she said otherwise. Ron had proven to be pissed with me and, unless I tell him the real reason Ginny and I broke up, it would probably stay that way. There was no one else I could go to, so I guess it was up to me to find this cure.

No resources, no help, nobody...

Maybe Malfoy could help. He's smart, right? It's probably a potion and, as much as I hate to admit it, he's brilliant with those. That was a joke though, Malfoy would never do that for me. Although, it would be helping himself too, and isn't that an extremely Malfoy thing to do?

Speak of the Devil, there he was. I noticed the soft glow coming from his wand across the table. I picked my head up only to look at the sight of Malfoy, sitting across from me, and reading a book. His hair fell in front of his face and the mixture of moonlight and magic made it glow. His eyes reflected the same blue light and seemed more vibrant. He looked calm, at ease.

He looked up at me and I felt my cheeks burn hot again, I hadn't realized I was staring. He quirked an eyebrow but said nothing more. He went back to reading and after a few more minutes of simply pondering why he wasn't moving, I reached across the table and took the book from his hands.

He made a face that I was sure could have killed me if he tried, so much for the calm. I wasn't sure which was better, this new Malfoy that didn't want to stir trouble or the old one that I had known for years.

I now had another reason to add to the growing list of why I should make amends with him. I needed to be kinder. He hadn't done anything this time, which was unusual. Normally he started everything we had a spat about. It was probably for appearances and to show how much power he held over the Slytherins.

Either that or he just really hated me. 

I knew it was rare for people here to hate me, especially excluding fifth year. I became more self-aware in my time alone, not that I enjoyed it, but thinking didn't change anything. If Malfoy could show the world that even I wasn't perfect, then he would have those Slytherins wrapped around his finger.

I always did appreciate that in a twisted sense. It's nice to have at least one person willing to see somebody who isn't the falsehood presented by the media. I realized I need to do the same for him.

In the end, he was right though, I'm not perfect. What better way to prove so than to demonstrate that?

"I need your help," I signed to him, after putting the book down. He looked shocked I would ask him for anything.

"What on Earth would you need my help for?"

"Can you teach me?" I asked, "You've complained a lot about it, so why don't you teach me how to be better?"

"You could be better at a lot of things. Be more specific," he rolled his eyes.

"I want to learn more BSL and how to read lips. In return I'll offer you help," this intrigued him.

"What do you have to offer me?" It was then I realized again, just how broken he probably was. I doubt many people had given him that offer, much less he take them up on it.

"I won't make this year difficult. I'm looking for a cure for magical deafness." He scoffed but remained interested, "I could really use your help. I call a truce," I reached my hand across the table. He looked at it sceptically and hesitantly reached his hand out.

Finally, that damn handshake was renewed.

"Fine then, but I want to know something first Potter."

"It's Harry now." That made him uncomfortable, I could tell. I didn't really care though, how could we overcome this stupid pettiness if we called each other by our last names?

"Then Harry, why are you awake at this hour of the night?" I hadn't realized how late it was. It was around midnight by my watch's time. I was out past curfew, again.

"I lost track of time earlier and went to drop our classes off." I paused. I didn't think he needed to know about Mr A's suspicious behaviour yet. "I heard a noise, went after it, and got lost." Damn it.

"Sure, you heard a noise." This made him laugh. If you have never seen Draco Malfoy laugh, I would recommend it. It will make you forget about your stupidity and go right along with him. He looked genuinely happy for the first time ever.

"Why were you up Draco?"

"I... couldn't sleep," he replied curtly. I didn't feel the need to press him. He hadn't pressed me, so why should I? "I can start now if you like. I won't be going to the dorms anytime soon."

"The lessons?"

"If that's what you're going to call them then sure."

"Where should we start?"

"Well for starters, you can't just fingerspell the words you don't know! You have to learn their signs at some point."

And with that, we were alone in the library, practising sign language for the next few hours. We would occasionally laugh, or our conversations would sidetrack. Nothing serious, we sidestepped any talk of war or status or betrayal. Just two boys that couldn't sleep and somehow made a neutral agreement not to kill each other.

That night was the most alive I had felt in over a year.