harry steps in lose, as lose as he dares, tether. he feels just a little bit guilty at his ulterior motives. “you have no idea, malfoy.”
fieps bak, peruses his handiwork, and hukles. “red doesn’t suit you at all.”
drao gives him a distasteful look. “it’s a garish olour,” he says, walking towards his wardrobe mirror to look at himself. he srunhes his nose up, and then sighs. he g harry through the mirror, studies him agaioe, and murmurs thoughtfully. “green suits you. it mathes your eyes.”
harry grins at him. “see? i would have beeherin.”
“you don’t belong here,” drao replies, rolling his eyes. “you’re too nie. utation to uphold.”
“hmm, that’s true. a have ko dok house points frive me more.”
&hes drao ugh, lets the ihe moment sink i propel him into telliory.
&ory of severus snape.
chapter 4
drao doesn’t ket potter to leave him alone.
& realizes that he has one day during lunh when an unfamiliar oetier on his p. it’s not his first time reeiving hate mail, a really surprised whe and sees one line:
leave harry potter alone.
rises him is his reation, his onvitiohinks strongly to himself, no. i don’t want to.
he looks aross the room, to the gryffindor table, where phing at whatever inane joke weasley had said. he looks happy, surrounded by his friends, with of any dark l down on his shoulders.
aer looks up, athes his eye, ahe most dazzling smile, and drao thinks, with his heart dropping to his stomah and his fist rumplie, no. dohis away from me.
it beomes frequent. daily, eveo hogwarts, he had already asked the headmistress to ban the howlers, but if pe him uise of i, eers, then that would defio stop.
instead, dra them i hall. he pokets them, like dirty serets, ahem at er omes. it hurts, of ourse it does, and at first, he had read them with the goal of finding out who they were from, but in the ehat he had beehem like aene.
but it’s durihat he opeh a hidden stihe pai on his wrist makes him wonder, why am i doing this again?
and it’s when potter omes in, stumbles on him sitting oh a mess of opeered around him and radling his wrist that he remembers otter had said: you an ask for help, you know.
potter frowns at him as he enters, obviously taking irying to uand e how drao’s holding his wrist that’s overed by the sleeve of his robes. “what’s wrong?”
and drao had expeted it to feel like tattling, iving up, but whe, he finds that he’s just really, really relieved to fio share anything with this man.
“i’ve beeters.”
“oh?” potter asks uriously, taking off his robes and throwing it o preamble, as if he lives here. drao likes it.
potter peers at the letters, but they’re all folded, and so drao hands him the &he very first one.
&er’s fae darkens at the message warms him from the i’s fuked up, but he likes knowi potter like this.
potter unfolds aheheil he’s gh all of them, ahe st one in his fist with his lips urled ihrows it in the garbage bihe remaihe bed. “how long has this been going on?” he demands.
draather the letters into a pile. “a week, maybe more?”
“why didn’t you tell me?” pry, and drao wants to kiss his frown away.
it’s hard whe enough to get angry for him. drao loses his eyes and takes a deep breath before he does something stupid like onfess.
when he opens his eyes, he lht at harry’s and says, “i’m telling you now.”
and he knoay potter’s tense shoulders slowly rex and the furrow in his eyebrows ease, that potter ua and humility that he’s giving in that sielling.
&o me,” potter mutters instead ahe pile of letters from drao’s haurns bak to his robes oher bed, aters is pokets with a grumble. “i’m givio prall. have you read all of them?”
“yes.”
“st them.” phs, fingers pressing on his temple. “why do you even keep ohem?”
drao smiles slightly at the frustrated figure potter’s bak makes. “thought it might onvine me.”
“to what?”
“to leave you alone.”
potter whips his head bak to look at him, stunned and hurt at his admission. “why would you—”