"What do you think? It's nice right? I love the color on you!"
Neville didn't really get… colors, exactly… certainly not the way Harry got them somehow.
However, looking in the mirror to examine his friend's handywork, he had to admit he liked the sweater vest he'd been put into… it was warm, first of all, with big stitching of thick material for the brisk weather, and a nice, light, off-brown sort of color. He didn't get what specifically about this color was so great but Harry had seemed annoyed by the fact the entire school could only pick from one of four colors to dress in… not that Harry himself had ever paid attention to that trend at all, but still.
They had their uniforms but there was also a lot of leeway given for practicality, so yes their outer robes were standard for colder months but what you wore under it mattered less, so long as it was neutral, presentable, and you had your tie on. In warmer months no one ever got detention for not having their black robes on, or missing ties if you were working in the greenhouses or leaning over cauldrons in potions and similar things that the strict uniform would interfere with.
Harry seemed to really like talking colors and his muggle clothing was… wild, to say the least. He didn't wear things like that under his black robes though as he could read the room and knew neon teal t-shirts probably weren't in the spirit of the Hogwarts uniform, so he kept things like that for non-class hours. He had been getting more and more creative with what he wore with his uniform though, but had been very faithful to the "neutral and presentable" guidelines set before them while still being very unique and interesting every day. Not the white button down, poorly-tied tie, and black slacks every other guy in Gryffindor wore, that's for sure.
They'd made a deal, over the past couple weeks, which is how Neville ended up also dressing like this… or having Harry hand him things to wear each day that he had no willpower to even argue about.
He'd always known his friend was an early riser, but he also suspected it wasn't exactly a good thing to be operating on that little amount of sleep, given they went to bed at roughly the same time, yet Harry was always up hours before Neville could drag himself into wakefulness. They'd reached an agreement that Harry would stay in bed and try to rest more at least an hour more than he had been, and in exchange when he did "wake up" officially, Neville would get up with him. Spending too many hours before sunrise with his own thoughts hadn't been doing him many favors so he agreed to take his calming drafts before bed and stay there until Neville got up, which he'd thankfully been very good about sticking to so far.
Neville wasn't sure if the extra sleep (or rest at least since he suspected he was just staring at the ceiling if he woke up too early accidentally) was actually doing him any good, but he couldn't be much worse than the alternative.
So, now up far earlier than he'd have chosen to be, they had some time to kill between the two of them in the mornings now. Harry spent a lot of time getting ready since he had the time to spend, but since Neville was just… there also, he'd suddenly decided that they both needed to get ready with the same amount of gusto.
Not that he'd forced anything on him just yet, but Harry had also gleefully started unearthing clothing from apparently nowhere and was also now scarily good at Transfiguration to be able to tailor it right to him and… well, Neville was just bad at saying no. Besides, he'd never been that concerned over what he wore, and he'd have his black robe over it all day anyway, so it didn't really matter that he was now wearing brown slacks and shoes that definitely seemed to be muggle but were very comfy for how odd they looked… as well as things like sweater vests and jumpers over his white collared shirts that were all colors he'd never imagined himself wearing before.
Things like off-brown and undercurrents of green or mauve were all totally foreign concepts to him as colors used to be 'just brown' to him… and frankly they still were 'just brown' to him, but the nuances in different colors seemed to be very important to Harry so he didn't say anything and just put on the clothes he was handed.
He also trusted the red head, because true to form, regardless of what the color was called, even he was able to recognize that the new sweater vest really made his dark blond hair seem… more gold somehow? And it also didn't look bad with his Gryffindor tie either, as matching the bold lion-red to things was not easy, and why even most girls stuck to whites, blacks, and greys beneath their school assigned colors. Black clashed with nothing after all.
He'd also not pushed a hair clip or bauble or anything on him as of yet, sticking just to clothes and Neville admitted with Harry picking out the clothes and tying his tie for him, he looked a lot more put together than any version of himself he could've come up with. At least now he looked like he had his life together, no matter what the reality was. Harry had even gotten his permission to trim his hair up a bit and it looked much less… juvenile? Was that the word? His old haircut was the one he'd had for most of his life, meaning ever since he was six or so, but now that he was twelve, almost a teenager at that… he supposed this new style was nicer for that purpose at least. Maybe people wouldn't baby him as much someday then.
He doubted Harry would ever be one of those people though, as he fixed his hair for him, beaming over his shoulder in the mirror.
"I do like it," he admitted, because it was true. He couldn't quite share the joy Harry seemed to have, but he also liked that this small thing made him happy.
"Yay!" he cheered, fixing his own hair before leading his way out of their dorm bathroom. "I wonder if breakfast is open yet," He wondered aloud, though much quieter as their roommates were still snoring soundly back in the main dorm. Sometimes Harry asked him to braid his long red hair for him, but today seemed not to be one of those days… which meant it was a better day than normal.
That was good. Hopefully breakfast would have something very filling and he'd actually eat all of it for once.
"It probably will be by the time we make it down there." He agreed, grabbing both of their bags as Harry made faces at Ron's very grating snore behind his curtains. He sighed silently. "Come on…"
Harry happily chatted about their Transfiguration test later today (ugh, please don't remind him) while they walked, and then the conversation turned to football, which Neville could actually participate more in. He was… not the best but he had been the default goalie for most of their games thus far this year. He liked to think he was doing much better at it recently and by Harry's very energetic praise felt a bit more confidence to keep trying. He wasn't sure what the real point of being a good goalie was but… he wasn't exactly the star talent at anything else in his life, so it felt good to have something for once.
They were very early to the Great Hall, in that breakfast was not technically served yet… however the house elves below would never let someone who was hungry go without, so when they sat, tea and small biscuits appeared on the plates before them. Neville figured real breakfast would appear in maybe twenty minutes or so....
Hogwarts had set meal times but it was very generous with start and end times. It normally depended on when kids were actually hungry, and while there was only a handful of early-rising kids milling about right now, mostly doing homework or minding their own business at their corners of the tables, once there was about a dozen kids or so ready to eat then food would start appearing regardless of if it was technically on time or not.
It was kind of nice, to be able to sit and actually talk at a normal, if not slightly quieter than normal volume. Being able to talk lowly and actually be heard in the Great Hall was a rare thing, but something that had been growing on Neville as they settled into this new routine of theirs.
They chatted a bit, still on football which was nice… but unfortunately it didn't last long since, as always, someone called to grab Harry's attention.
"Good morning you two," The girl in question walked up casually… a lot more casually than Slytherins normally did to the Gryffindor table, although it probably had something to do with the fact he and Harry were literally the only Gryffindors currently sitting here right now.
"You're up early," Harry gave her a look and Daphne just shrugged it off, nodding her greeting… Neville was slightly surprised she even acknowledged him. Most Slytherins didn't… and he half worried Harry would wonder why—
But he was sufficiently distracted when she handed him a letter wordlessly, and Neville was then less concerned about Harry's suspicions, and more so about the new tension in his shoulders.
"Don't look so worried, I believe it's good news."
"Good news…" he repeated, still staring at the letter like he wasn't sure if he wanted to open it or not.
Harry had told him everything so… he kind of suspected what was in it.
"Why don't you leave it until after breakfast. We have a break before Herbology anyway." He suggested quietly and Harry frowned a bit before locking eyes for a moment and deciding to listen. Luckily, he'd been doing that more lately.
"…I guess I will." He agreed, slipping it into his robe pocket safely. Greengrass raised a brow.
"Not curious?"
"Of course I am, but I'm eating first," He shrugged flippantly, like it wasn't a big deal. Like the real reason wasn't that if he read the letter, then he'd be too worked up to eat and Neville would make disappointedly worried eyes at him until lunch.
She didn't push, giving a shrug. One glance around the room and she actually slipped into the table beside him, making Neville blink.
"If you don't mind… are you talking about the game this weekend?"
"Why, looking to be on our team?"
"I might have an interest…" She deflected coyly, and Neville couldn't really argue… she was one of the better midfielders in the club so far. Only really the Weasley twins, who were damn near the best at it, had her beat so far.
He figured it was the Slytherin-y-ness probably…as the current only snake in the club, Daphne had a real knack of sticking to the middle of the field and making some very clever plays, which usually worked now that people had relaxed enough around her to listen to her when she called the shots. Her and Marissa, a fourth year Ravenclaw had been proving to be just as much trouble as Fred and George could be sometimes, though if they were on the same team Neville would feel less anxious about needing to defend against tricky plays like that… then again he really wasn't interested in facing the twins, who could read each other's minds apparently. He was just thankful they'd settled as midfielders too, not forwards… although Susan was a forward who did apparently whatever she wanted regardless of rules and she was on the opposite team this weekend…
He winced at the reminder. She was kind of terrifying and kicked really hard.
"Thinking about Bones, huh? She's certainly a problem, isn't she?" Greengrass chuckled at him and he felt his cheeks get hot. Was she a mind reader!? "If you let me on your team I may have a plan or two that should have her cooling it some."
"I mean…" He didn't really know, since no one really let anyone onto their teams or not. It was still unofficial enough that people just sort of grouped together and the team captains who'd decided to kick off a game were responsible for filling out their teams with 11 people and back-ups if needed.
"Otto is our team captain this week, you'll have to ask him— though I'm not against it," Harry gave her a knowing looks and she made a face. Right… Otto being a third year Gryffindor and not on the best of terms with Slytherins in general. Harry must've felt benevolent today though because he just chuckled. "I'll ask him when he comes down for breakfast."
"Thanks," She gave him a thankful grin, before jumping right into the new tactic she wanted to use.
Neville… ate a biscuit and listened carefully.
000
"Again."
Draco felt sweat pooling on his brow and winced as he wiped it off. He thought himself pretty athletic given his dedication to quidditch for practically his whole life, and especially recently now that he was on the team, but this was a whole other monster altogether.
He put his hands in the air around the goblet in front of him and strained to gather the energy needed to perform the spell, just barely reminding himself to clear his thoughts and refocus on the feeling he'd found that echoed through him, the one that caused the right ripples to appear across the water in the cup before him. He was not used to the trial-and-error forms of learning things but to say he probably wouldn't be forgetting it any time soon was an understatement…
That being said, just because he now knew the feeling of how to do it correctly, didn't mean it was easy to do several dozen times in a row.
As evidenced by the last ripple disappearing on the water's surface half a beat too early compared to all the other times he'd done it.
"Hm," Madam Pomfrey hummed neutrally. "That seems to be your limit then. Remember the strain you just felt in performing that spell and if you're ever in that situation again you will cease healing immediately, even mid-spell if need be. You understand how to cancel healing spells?"
"Yes Madam." He nodded, that being one of the first things she'd ever drilled into him, along with quite the lengthy and far-too-detailed lecture about exactly what kind of gruesome things even simple spells that didn't finish properly could do to a human body.
"Good. I will reiterate that this particular spell, if incomplete because of a lack of magic or concentration, can turn one's skin inside out on the appendage you're working on. For arms and legs that's unfortunate but you will kill someone should it be their torso or their head." She explained bluntly, and while he'd heard it before he still felt disgusted by the reminder.
"Yes Madam." He kept his thoughts to himself though. He hadn't quite realized she was testing his endurance for this, he thought she was testing him on his ability to perform this spell: the first one he thought he'd mastered, and it was an extremely basic one to heal a minor scrape: even a paper cut might be too deep for this low-level spell for how basic it was. The only promising thing about it though, was that he'd done it entirely wandless, without an incantation, and the entire spell took only four or five seconds to complete.
Which he thought was pretty good but—
"It is a decent start Mr. Malfoy, however you will need to keep at it until it can be done within a second. When done with a wand that spell is nearly instantaneous. Also given the amount of power you are using it would probably be suited well for a scraped knee or palm, however in its full form it should be able to absolve someone's entire body of abrasions and, at its peak, even remove sunburn entirely. My advice is to keep at it until you can build the power and speed for performing it. I commend you for being able to do it successfully multiple times in a row however: that is a critical first step." She was brutal as ever in giving strict praise where it was due, but also having no mercy at all in how far he still had to go.
As he wiped the sweat from his brow he grimaced in thinking how long just getting this far had taken him.
"Yes Madam," he sighed instead. "I don't suppose you're going to teach me anything else to keep it interesting while I work on this?"
The woman gave him a very indulgent smile that scrunched the wrinkles of her eyes in a lighter manner than she'd been addressing him in thus far.
"I do not suppose I will. To build your ability into a powerful one I'm afraid the only way to do it is one step at a time. I suspect once this is mastered you will have the understanding to move onto other spells slightly quicker than this first one… but unfortunately building your magical reserves to be able to heal continuously, using stronger spells than these basic ones, can only be done through repetition and dedication. You may have the skill to learn a new spell, however you do not have the magical prowess for it just yet. Practice until you can no more and eventually you will."
"Right…" He already suspected that given her warnings before, but it was still depressing to hear.
"I will give you a comprise, if you'd like?"
He perked up instantly, anything but the slog he'd been going through sounding mighty damn appealing right then. "How so?"
She gave him another indulgent smile before reaching to the side of her desk with a stack of small journals that'd been there since he'd arrived at her office for his lesson, clearly having been prepared in advance for this.
"Our agreement thus far was to help you develop your ability. Have you given any thought into what more you'd like to do with it, in the future?" She prompted.
"Like… actually being a healer versus just someone with this ability?" He clarified, flexing his hand pointedly and she nodded patiently.
She had explained the difference—he could have this ability just fine, that was just something unique about him… but to actually be called a healer he'd need a lot more training and the intent was to attend St. Mungos for a certification of sorts after his Hogwarts graduation. Pomfrey had explained that most started from scratch as graduated wizards with NEWT level knowledge in Charms and Potions, and it took them two to three years to get their certification. He, as a second year without any kind of NEWT level knowledge in anything, but with a private tutor and this inherent ability of his, could probably study for it during his time at Hogwarts and she suspected it would only take him maybe a couple months to get that certification upon graduation. And even that would be just going through the motions to get the paperwork in order mostly.
While that was all well and good, it was a lot of work if he wasn't actually planning to be a healer. He could just keep training his ability and call it there, if he wanted to, turning it into a clever party trick at best and pursue anything else with his career instead. Or, if he intended to actually become a healer…
Honestly… he still didn't know.
He hadn't truly given a ton of thought to what he would do with his future, he was pretty well preoccupied by just trying to survive his school year and he'd always had this vague understanding that he needed to be prepared to get ahead in the world but…
But what does 'get ahead' mean exactly? What is 'success'? The objective goal is to make wealth for the Malfoy name but we are the richest in Wizarding Britain already. I could own businesses and such like father does without it being my entire life, right?
When he stopped and really thought about life after Hogwarts… waking up in the morning, what would he want to do with his day? Eat breakfast, play quidditch… if he wasn't a professional quidditch player he'd definitely like to own a team maybe, which would be a decent source of income too, but then in the off season there was only so much that could actually fill up in a day…
His cheeks turned a light pink when the brutally honest side of him admitted quietly that really… whatever day-to-day life he lived, he knew he'd want to see Harry in it. Even if it was just catching up with him in Diagon or doing… whatever it was that Harry was up to because come hell or high water Draco knew Harry would always be up to something no matter what it was…
The idea that he would spend his days stuck in a solicitor's office like his father or doing political tea parties like his mother… was truly not appealing to him. It sounded dreadfully boring even if that's sort of what he felt like he should be doing somehow.
Really… despite how bad everyone said he was at it, being with people was the highlight of his day. He could only take so much studying alone or flying by himself before he went insane; part of the only reason he and Blaise somehow manage to become sort-of friends was that neither of them could handle being isolated islands of people no matter how bad an idea it was to get involved with each other. They weren't Nott who would happily never talk to another human again and be just fine. No… Draco found he gained energy from talking and engaging with others.
So yeah, he sucked at manipulation and playing the Slytherin game, but he did honestly enjoy trying. He liked talking and he thought he was slowly getting better at it as he developed his strategy of how to become the kind of Slytherin he wanted to be. In his current day-to-day, the 'high' points were always when he'd engaged with someone somehow. Even if it was an argument or something negative, he still preferred that to not speaking or keeping to himself. He hated being ignoredway more than he hated getting into conflicts or arguments, that's how basic his desire to be with other people was.
So yeah… sitting in an office or playing house would get boring immediately.
Other than working in a shop or some other kind of basic public service job, what kind of profession guaranteed human contact every day? There was almost no way to be a healer without dealing with people constantly, which he kind of liked the sound of in a weird way. He did not feel overly empathetic or soft, like the traditional concept of what a healer should be like, but Madam Pomfrey sure as hell wasn't soft on him as she'd gone about giving him these lessons. In fact, apart from some smiles spared here and there, she wasn't really that empathetic at all.
Most of Hogwarts knew intimately how scary she was—Sprout was the portly motherly-type, but Madam Pomfrey had always been terrifying. He had no desire to be subservient exactly but… heaving the Madam's sort of reputation was in no way unattractive to him if he could somehow replicate it someday.
He could totally fake some smiles in the name of being 'comforting' when it counted, but if being pretty uncaring otherwise was okay… and going by the Madam's attitude it clearly was… then it didn't sound like a bad life choice at all. In fact the idea that it required skill in Charms and Potions, two of not only his best but his favorite subjects, kind of made it feel like this was well suited to his personality type. The physical work itself had his interest already and he wasn't against learning more as he genuinely enjoyed the topics too as they were pretty cool.
Besides, it didn't hurt that a healer was viewed as a very esteemed position in the wizarding world. Aside from Aurors it was one of the only professions that required more education outside of what Hogwarts taught (and no Malfoy was about to become an Auror, thank you). There was value and prestige in the role and given Madam Pomfrey was setting him up to be able to get his certification in record time, would make him one of the youngest healers alive right now and add even more prestige to the job.
Would it bring esteem to the Malfoy name? It would be a weird career choice for sure, but yes it actually would.
Was it light or dark tinted? Depending on how he used it, it could go either way or even strictly grey which was perfect. That flexibility was really attractive particularly since he still had no other solid plans (…and he suspected that he would need to be pretty agile to keep on top of whatever Harry was doing at any given time).
Was it useful? Oh Merlin yes it would be, just imagining the kind of deals he could strike was mouthwatering.
Was it profitable? Potentially, again depending on how he used it, and he was sure he could find a way to turn a profit someday post-Hogwarts. He knew his mother paid a pretty penny to have private healers look at her family and friends rather than ever go to St. Mungos herself, and he could probably take that leverage pretty far in the right situation.
Did he think he'd like it?
Actually… yes, surprisingly, he realized he just might.
There was more, because of course there was more. Things like what happened if the Dark Lord returned… being a healer was a lot like being a potions master, and Severus had already proven that being useful to someone with more power was a great way to stay alive. On the exact opposite side of the spectrum, if the Dark Lord never came back and Draco could happily have Harry in his life in one way or another, he already knew damn well that being able to heal broken bones and minor cuts was going to be critical since Harry didn't seem to be any less danger prone as time went on—in fact it only seemed to be getting worse.
The potion incident had… rattled him, some.
He'd heard the whispers and been there after last year's incident, on the train ride home under a silent truce with Longbottom as they just watched Harry try not to unravel into string before their eyes. He had really hoped his friend would've reached out to him over the summer to talk things though, but Harry hadn't contacted anyone… and maybe he still didn't quite understand how bad that actually was, but he knew now it was worse than he'd been fearing. He now regretted doing nothing, not pushing harder or just showing up at his door somehow… he wasn't sure what exactly he should've done but looking back, he now knew for certain he really should've done more. Even now he hated the fact he had no clue what he should've done, all he knew was that he should've done it.
"Don't be so dense," Blaise had rolled his eyes at him after Harry had disappeared after that potions class. He still had no idea how much the tall Slytherin actually heard of their exchange, but he suspect it was more than he would be comfortable with. "Only professionals don't make a sound when you burn the skin off half your body. Your pet Gryffindor is more impressive than you, you spoiled brat."
Draco had ground his jaw until it ached, particularly because the Zabini heir had sounded legitimately annoyed that he still hadn't figured out what they all apparently knew. Nott had stared daggers at him, blue eyes piercing his soul silently as if asking if he were being serious right now…
But Draco hadn't been able to say anything. He was still trying desperately to catch up and was realizing he was failing people spectacularly right now. It completely sucked, on top of the fact he was positively ripping his hair out that Harry wasn't okay and he didn't know what he should be saying or doing.
He didn't know how to fix things.
He didn't know what to do.
His hands could ease pain but he had never once been someone Harry would open up to for comfort or shelter or just to get a weight off his shoulders, and at this point even Draco wasn't oblivious enough to not see that. Harry didn't share things with him and while he'd once been content to just wait him out, he now knew there would be no out-waiting Harry Potter. Or, he could out-wait him, but Harry would not be the person he met last year anymore by the time he made it through everything he'd been suffering through on his own.
And that kind of terrified him.
He already knew things were different. Harry was anxious and being more Gryffindor-like, not because of a choice or his pride, but because he was stressed and not willing to be smart about things anymore. He was panicking almost, about everything. Where had the guy who'd plotted for months just to destroy Montague gone?
Draco unfortunately knew.
That guy was kidnapped by a teacher and he was not okay after it. People still didn't know the details as only Harry and the ex-Defense professor (may he rot in Azkaban) knew what actually happened that night, but that meant Draco was completely in the dark. Everyone else apparently was able to fill in some context clues and he was not sure why he couldn't.
His pride and stupidity would only cost Harry in the end though. It didn't matter that he wanted to be the one his best friend came to for help, for some reason the fiery Gryffindor just wouldn't do it… not with how he was, maybe. Maybe Draco was doing something wrong or just not being approachable enough or… or something—but it didn't matter!
Despite how he hated it, he admitted defeat.
He couldn't do shit right now, so he asked for help.
Greengrass was way safer than Blaise and the only one who had a shot in hell of approaching any Gryffindor to make a deal given her involvement with them through the football club. Besides, he was pretty sure she was genuine friends with Harry at this point and had her own worries about him—something that was proven correct when she agreed to it for practically nothing, when he would've offered a lot more in exchange for her help.
He didn't ask who she'd gone to or what deal she'd struck, all Draco knew was that Slytherin couldn't help Harry right now… it had to be a Gryffindor.
The lions were better at things like emotions and impulses, and certainly Harry was neck deep in his right now, unable to see anything else beyond whatever was invading his mind and his heart. It stung that he needed to concede to Gryffindor but… Harry was a Gryffindor in the end, though everyone (including him) liked to forget that fact.
While he didn't know… Draco did suspect it was Longbottom who'd finally stepped in, given Harry was practically glued to his hip ever since that incident.
If he were a better man he would've been thankful to the quiet lion, but he was just silently keeping his petty annoyance (jealousy) to himself. The only thing he felt happy about was that Harry seemed to… be a bit brighter now. He'd been looking very haggard since the start of second year, to be honest.
Still, Harry visited the Slytherin table for meals but it'd been mostly just that: visits. There was a lot less hanging out, or he was splitting his time more evenly between the four houses now, which is when Draco realized just how often he'd actually been sitting with them this year. He wished it'd go back to the way it was, but…he also knew Harry was happier this way.
He liked people too, just in a far more friendly way than Draco did. He could at least understand wanting more people than just the likes of Blaise who just heckled him constantly… though he still wished he himself would rank just a tiny but higher in the red head's priorities every time Draco watched him sit with Hufflepuff at lunch or chose kicking a football around with Ravenclaws over catching up over study sessions.
He kept all those mortifyingly childish thoughts to himself though, in the safety of his own head and made sure no one ever knew he was thinking them. Least of all Harry.
But because he suddenly had more time than before to himself, he was a good student who was always on top of his homework, and shockingly enough quidditch couldn't take up all his daylight hours, he now very often ended up in the Hospital Wing, taking Madam Pomfrey up on her offer to instruct him a bit on his ability. Her office was now a pretty familiar sight and she was a good teacher, if not someone more strict than McGonagall, which Draco had not realized was possible.
Weirdly enough, she was a lot like his mother though and he knew to shut up and nod respectfully when powerful witches were instructing him on things he knew he was nowhere near their level on, so he'd slipped quite easily into her good graces by being a polite and obedient student. Draco had a lot of pride as a Malfoy but he wasn't stupid—the Madam was actually terrifying and the more lessons they had where she detailed extremely graphic injuries without blinking or how to effectively utilize mind altering charms, the more he his posture straightened and the more polite he got. She was one witch he had no interest in crossing, and luckily she laid out clear rules about what got on her bad side and what was approved very early on, so he could play by them very well from the start.
He kind of liked the clarity. He was struggling in Slytherin politics because 99% of it was implications and subtext and pre-knowledge and ever-changing power dynamics… all things he was very bad at picking up on in the moment if he didn't know about someone ahead of time. Having someone literally spell out in a neat, bullet-pointed list of things that were allowed and things that would piss her off was actually a breath of fresh air, so he found that despite ending up here to kill the excess of time he suddenly had, once he was here he actually genuinely did enjoy it.
Over time… he also realized his previous plan, his desire to let Harry be… he could do that as a healer. Harry could go off and do whatever dangerous thing the wanted to do, and if Draco were useful to him, if having someone who could heal him right there by his side was in any way a reason for Harry to admit he needed help if maybe he otherwise wouldn't…
Honestly, it was kind of worth it.
Because Merlin knew Harry wouldn't actually admit defeat that easily, Draco was going to have to do this on his own and then just be there in case it became clear to him that Harry could use a hand.
Because honestly, what else could he actually do? This last incident had proven he was entirely helpless to help Harry in any other way, but he could now fix a minor scrape, and maybe one day do even more so… while he struggled to catch up with how to fix a mind and a heart, he could at least fix a body.
Draco operated under the general belief that Harry didn't really need him. To be brutally honest, Draco probably didn't need him either… in fact his life was a lot harder simply because he'd decided his best friend was a Gryffindor.
But this, in his very Slytherin way, was what he wanted from his life, so really it should be about what he could do to get it first, then everything else second.
And he wanted to be someone Harry would want to need.
He straightened up under Madam Pomfrey's gaze, holding his hands out for the documents she was holding.
"I haven't exactly decided but… I wouldn't be against learning what goes into it." Because he couldn't make it too easy or commit to something like this without a lot more thought… but he was intrigued, to say the least. He didn't have a better plan, he should say, and starting early could only help.
"Of course," She seemed to accept that logic with a twinkle in her eye, handing the papers over easily. "Then while you practice this spell you can also learn some basic knowledge of healing as well. I think the second one in this pile is of the most interest to your practical practice."
He noted the top-most document was a very official looking Tenets of Healing with the St Mungos' symbol at the bottom which was probably the introductory booklet on what it took to be a healer, however lifting it up to see the second one… he blinked in surprise to see a packet that was very much handwritten.
"Occlumency?" He tilted his head. "I've been learning it for as long as I can remember from my parents." He admitted.
"Most Slytherin children do, as I understand," She agreed, but tapped her temple almost pointedly. "Healers' minds are meant to be more secure than most, as we see people in their weakest states, and can know confidential things about someone simply by the nature of our job. In that Tenets of Healing journal, you'll find one of the most important rules is secrecy, and the art of maintaining your patients' secrets to the point of death. Occlumency is a critical part of being able to accomplish that, and therefore healers have their own form of Occlumency that is, to put it plainly, a higher form than you would learn anywhere else. They are designed specifically to be unique barriers to protect medical knowledge and a patient's health status."
Draco snapped his head up, eyes going wide. "Really!?"
The implications…
She cut his wild thoughts off with a tap to the paper he was holding. "This document outlines the bare minimum, however the actual technique is only for those committed to being healers, not those who are dabbling, I should say." Her eyes sparkled in amusement as he huffed, realizing he'd been caught.
"So I wouldn't learn it until I was serious about being a healer," He deduced.
"Yes. And let me be clear, you must actually be serious about being a healer, not simply say you are… believe me I will be able to tell the difference, Mr. Malfoy."
He felt a shiver race up his spine under her gaze and… yeah, he thought she probably could.
"I understand." He relented immediately, not willing to cross that firm line in the sand until he was a lot more sure than he currently was.
"Still, being good at Occlumency even as it's traditionally taught will only help your focus as you go about mastering these spells, particularly as you are learning them without a wand, which takes several times the amount of focus than learning them normally would take. Some believe that a good mental space will allow your magic reserves to grow more quickly—there's no official evidence for it, but it's a wives tale told amongst healers in training."
"Alright, I can take a look…" He shifted through the papers to see what else was in here, seeing titles for what seemed to be a list of beginner charms unrelated to healing but should help develop the right skills, an intro to healing potions, and even a journal on magical core properties, but it was the last and the thickest of the provided works that got him making a face as he saw the cover picture.
Pomfrey chuckled at his reaction. "That is, of course, the main point of healing: to understand the human anatomy and what it is that you will be healing. Magic is much cleaner than muggle medicine, but it's still important you learn how a body should work, to be able to know when or what the injury to it is, so it is a great place to start if you're going to get into the theory beside your practical practice."
Blood had never bothered Draco one bit, but he had to admit the book's cover having an image of a body without its skin was off-putting enough for his taste's. Although if he was going to be getting into this, being squeamish about bodies was something he'd have to get over pretty quickly.
He had to admit though, he was kind of curious too.
He'd never given much though to how or why his body did what it did, and it was interesting to know he could learn it all.
"Can we start with this then? The basics I guess before I start reading."
"Very well. Take notes: let's start at the foundation of the human body, which is the skeletal structure," She began without fuss and he already had his notebook out as he started writing it all down quickly.
000
"Excuse me!?" Tracy Davis still hated him, but thankfully she seemed to have reached the conclusion she wouldn't be able to shake him off no matter how much she wanted to. She was visibly annoyed and muttering darkly but didn't say outright no when Harry set his best puppy dog eyes on her. "You have a lot of gall, Potter," She sneered.
"I don't want to know the password I just need a way in is all! Would it make you feel better if I traded for it? How about some Transfiguration notes?"
"That feels even worse!" She snapped, but contrary to her words spun on her heel and walked back to the wall where she'd just left the Slytherin common room to let him in. "I'm not being bribed, you're here because some other lunatics allowed it is all, not because of anything I did, you hear?" She warned him and he made a show of zipping up his lips.
"Not a word, I promise!"
"What are you even doing in there?" She huffed, pointedly not opening the door until he answered which was easy enough.
"Well I need to drop a note off for Daphne and also promised to give Theo some of my notes in exchange for a new book he found. McGonagall let slip there'll be a pop quiz this week so I figured he'd want them sooner rather than later," He slyly slipped in that info for her benefit as well, trying to butter her up, and by the twitch of her brow she knew exactly what he was doing. "And to be totally honest… I want to ask one of the snakes on the mantle if they know anything about the petrification monster that's eating first years."
She blinked, kind of taken off guard by that last one.
He eye twitched but… like everyone else, she wasn't unaffected by the threat the monster posed and if it was Slytherin's monster, then the mantle snakes that Salazar Slytherin himself supposedly enchanted might know a thing or two.
Surprisingly, it was Dean who'd pointed that out when he confessed his concern over the monster. He hadn't had a chance to theorize with Draco and the other Slytherins yet, not really mentally ready for the kind of effort that would take, but at Neville's encouragement he's started by trying to brainstorm with the other Gryffindor guys as a warm up of sorts. That discussion had been, predictably, kind of outlandish and still somehow skewed into already assuming it was Slytherin's monster and that it was definitely the murderous voice he'd heard (Harry thought so too but he still had no proof as of yet, something his roommates were happy to ignore). Seamus and Dean seemed very on board with the idea that some Slytherin was the culprit, not really hearing the ideas that it could be a spirit or something more troublesome, so it went about as Harry had suspected it would.
Their ideas of where to find out more though were far more practical than anything Harry had come up with though, and even better yet they were things he could actually do right now that he didn't have to plot or practice for. Dean's idea to talk to the snakes was flat out brilliant, but Seamus had also suggested they explore the castle as a group to see if Harry couldn't find the voice again… which he was not going to tell his Slytherin friends about, particularly since Daphne had already called him stupid for even attempting to do so earlier.
Thing was, there weren't exactly Aurors wandering the halls right now so Harry felt if he got petrified at least he wouldn't need to freak out about it for the rest of the school year until the mandrakes were ready, and then it'd be him and not someone else. Also, doing anything, much less doing it with friends he trusted, was better than just sitting here in his own anxiety that someone else would get hurt while he was in his dorm doing nothing to stop it.
Stupid, maybe, but his roommates were completely down to jump into the fire beside him and somehow that made him feel better. They wouldn't break curfew and would most likely just end up wandering the halls together to kill time—he'd already gotten them to promise that if he did find something they were running to the nearest teacher to report it, not confronting it themselves, which seemed like a decent compromise.
Tracy looked like it physically hurt her to admit that was a pretty good reason to need to get into the snake den… he was really the only one who could talk to them and if it helped stop the attacks then she would benefit from it too. So without dignifying that with a response she just opened the door for him. He thanked her profusely as he slipped in—which she ignored, but he tried!
He hadn't lied at all, all three of his objectives of visiting were true, but he also happened to pick a time when he knew neither Daphne nor Theo were actually here. You could never predict where Blaise would be in a given day but Harry lucked out that he didn't seem to be here either as he made his way as casually as he could through the room. He tried to act both like he belonged there so as not to stick out, but also not like he owned the place since those that did notice him would surely take issue with that. He was usually never here without an 'escort' so to speak, so despite someone having to let him in, he was unaccompanied right now and knew that would be a red flag to some. So, he kept his head down as he made his way quickly to the mantle.
He slipped behind Theo's chair to kneel by the fire, and he saw all the snakes recognize him, but the two massive ones around the carved trees in particular lifted their heads in interest.
"If it isssn't the Ssspeaker." "Sssorry to bother you. I wasss hoping to asssk you a few quessstionsss if you didn't mind?" He offered back politely, and the one closest to him hummed.
"If I know an anssswer, then you are welcome to it."
Harry was thrilled the snake was far more helpful than human Slytherins, because he'd been prepared to need to beg or convince the beings and was thankful it wasn't necessary. The littler snakes had been a ton of help back when he was learning the gossip they'd overheard in the common room, but they didn't really seem to have that deep of an attention span: the two bigger ones at this specific fireplace, the biggest in the entire room in fact, seemed to be much calmer and less vapid somehow. Hence why he was hoping this one would be able to tell him something a little deeper than who was dating who, or who had blackmail on who and so forth.
As if sensing the depth of conversation here, the dozens of tiny snakes carved around the mantle seemed to quiet down and appeared to be watching this exchange curiously as their bigger friend took the lead.
"Do you know anything about the attacksss that have been happening in the ssschool this year? Have you heard othersss talking about it or anything from Hogwartsss itssself?"
The snake lifted its head some to be level with him, humming quietly.
"Attacksss? No, I have not."
"I have not either," The other large snake chimed in, much to Harry's disappointment.
"A ssstudent was petrified earlier thisss month. Ssso was a cat, with writing in blood on a wall claiming that the Chamber of Sssecretsss hasss been opened, and the asssumption is that there's a culprit who did that writing, and who maybe opened the chamber then. People are sssaying it is Ssslytherin's monssster."
"I do not know Ssslytherin'sss monssster." The far snake said, but the one closest to Harry turned to its partner before looking back at him calmly. Hesitantly almost.
"If such a chamber exsssisted in Sssalazar'sss time, I did not know it. However, I recall sssomething like that after hisss time. Another one asssked us of that not too long ago."
"Really!? Who? Was it recently?" Harry was floored. Who else was a parselmouth!? That was almost bigger news than there being a monster at all!
"Not ssso recccently… there wasss a boy. Very charming… he was a ssspeaker too. He ssspoke of the cassstle wallsss and sssecret passagewaysss. He plotted how to win againssst hisss enemiesss, and plotted attacksss as well, though it did not ssseem to go as sssuccsssesssfully as he wanted it to at timesss."
"Another ssspeaker? Do you know how long ago?" Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"I do not recall. Time fadesss and lurchesss, but there have been many generationsss of facesss I recall, sssince."
That wasn't exactly good… and Harry had a bad feeling he knew who the other speaker of some unknown amount of years ago was. He had no idea how old Voldemort actually was, but it didn't really matter as there was really only one most recent parselmouth in history besides Harry himself, who also happened to have very well-known violent tendencies that may be interested in attacking his fellow students…
He'd been a Slytherin. He probably once sat in this very spot and asked these snakes some questions of his own, as the only person who could understand the relics Salazar Slytherin had left behind.
The thought did not make Harry feel too good, to be honest.
"Do you remember hisss name?"
The snake paused a long… long time as it considered that. It took nearly two minutes of dead, nearly awkward silence but then…
"…Riddle."
"Riddle? Are you sssure?"
"It isss all I can recall."
"I mean even that isss very helpful, ssso thank you." Harry ducked his head at the creature who flicked its stone tongue at him as if acknowledging that. "Can I asssk…?Why do you remember but the othersss don't?"
"I am the oldessst." It said blankly. "I recall many facesss. Including the face of the man who carved me, and who enchanted me to guide my sssiblings here. We are not real sssnakes after all, we are ssstone enchantmentsss for Sssalazar'sss children."
The other snakes had short memories, they were only there for either decoration or time-of guidance. They could remember a couple years back it seemed, but nothing more than that…
This one was carved by Salazar himself though, likely for his actual descendants who should've been the only ones who could speak the snake language. Harry was intrigued to say the least.
"Do you have a name? Mine isss Harry."
"I may have forgotten it over time." It admitted. "I do not need one either."
"If you're sssure," He relented, but kind of fascinated by the stone being. It had to be hundreds and hundreds of years old which was wild to wrap his mind around. It being an elder he actually respected for once, he felt the urge to be more polite than he normally was… it just had that distinguished air about it somehow. "Do you know what the other ssspeaker meant about the passsagewaysss?"
"He found large tunnelsss hidden in the wallsss. If Slytherinsss monssster exsssisssted, he wanted to ussse them to move unssseen."
Which, completely checked out if that voice he'd heard from seemingly nowhere had just been hidden in a wall. And if that was really it… he was going to need to check that out if he could. He was pretty good with Serpensortia now, that might be the opportunity to really test it out…
He shelved it for a moment, but he'd definitely circle back to that as soon as he could.
"Ssso you don't know if Slytherinsss monssster really exsssisssted, nor what it would be?"
"I do not. My creator never mentioned sssomething like that to sssomething like me."
Which would also check out… Salazar probably had no need to tell one of his enchanted decorations one of his most important secrets after all. It was just a stone décor in the end, not a confidant as back then parselmouths probably weren't as undeniably rare as they were today.
Still… it wasn't the information he'd been after, as it didn't tell him much about the attacks happening now except that the monster probably wasn't disembodied, it was just moving through secret passageways in the wall… but he was finding a path Voldemort had once walked, as if sensing an echo he'd left behind. Was Voldemort's real name Riddle?
There had to be people like Neville's gran that knew him then. He had to be old but not that old that no one alive remembered what he was like before he was the 'dark lord' everyone feared…
Harry wasn't sure why it was so important. Maybe it was the idea that knowing who this enemy was as a human first, made him a lot more manageable than just… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"What a look of concern you have, child." The snake broke his thoughts and he did a double take, realizing his expression had probably gone off the rails some.
"I didn't think you'd underssstand human facesss that way. Apologiesss."
"I've had time to practice. And children are easssy to read." Harry didn't like being called a child, but he allowed that the snake was a thousand years old so everyone probably looked like a child to him.
Then again, he was only twelve so… maybe he should just shut up.
"I am worried about the attacksss. The boy who wasss petrified wasss a friend." He admitted. "You've been a great help in other waysss, but I ssstill don't know what to do about the threat here."
"I know of no creaturesss that prefer petrification but the gorgonsss." It admitted, and Harry made a note of that.
He seemed to remember a DADA class that talked about how gorgons were humanoid, and mostly wiped out hundreds of years ago… they were malicious, at least in the story taught to them, but intelligent like humans or werewolves or vampires or any humanoid 'dark creature' was. Given what he'd learned of how the magical world treated werewolves, Harry had decided to not make a judgement on any supposed 'dark creature' until he'd met one himself, so he shelved that implied accusation away for much later.
"At the very leassst, if it isssn't Sssalazar'sss chamber or hisss monssster, then there isss sssomeone claiming it and attacking people under that guissse." He frowned, trying to think through it. If it wasn't a gorgon, what else petrified people? This snake who'd actually met Salazar Slytherin couldn't even confirm if the chamber or the Slytherin monster even existed at all so… he really had less than he started with.
"I am not the only sssnake in the cassstle, merely the oldessst that I know of. Sssalazar carved many more outssside this room, ssso go look for them. Perhapsss they will know more." It gently soothed him and he relaxed his shoulders some… that was a good idea.
These snakes were stuck to a mantle after all, but Salazar Slytherin had once been one of four people who owned this entire castle… he hid the chamber somewhere, if it existed, but he could've carved snakes in a million other places outside of the Slytherin dorm as hints or guides or for fun, etc. If one happened to be in a very prominent location… maybe it had seen something!
Now instead of just looking for disembodied voices, maybe he could repurpose the Gryffindor boys' search they were doing later into a snake hunt instead. He didn't think he'd looked close enough at wall decals and paintings other than briefly glancing at them as landmarks since he got here, but maybe now was the time to take a hard look at them all.
"That'sss actually a brilliant idea: I'll do that! Thank you ssso much, sssir." He bowed to it again, and it flicked it's tongue silently.
"Hm… you ssseem lossst."
Harry lifted his head, surprised. "Do I?" It just stared at him without answering, and he remembered it's purpose with a wave of nervousness. "You sssaid Sssalazar created you to help. What isss it that you were meant to tell Sssalazar'sss children?"
"Information if I had it. Guidance assss well, if asssked."
"Did the ssspeaker before me ever asssk for your help?"
"No. The ssspeaker of that time did not often asssk me for guidanccce or adviccce. He complained often when hisss plansss did not work, however if they were susssesssful I doubt he would care enough to mention it to me."
"That ssseems a bit rude." Harry was sympathetic as was only polite, but also recognizing they were probably talking about Voldemort here, him being polite seemed to be a minor issue at best.
"It isss jussst the way sssome little sssnake are." It hummed, in a tone that said it'd be shrugging if it could. If it had shoulders, that is.
Harry pressed his lips, a bit curious but also nervous about the answer.
"What other adviccce could you give me? I'm not a natural sssnake."
"No? You ssseem just fine to me. Though I could tell you are not of thisss houssse." It admitted, though not unwelcomely. "If there wasss anything to sssay, it would be to sssmile more. I would tell that to all the children here if only they could underssstand me."
"Sssmile?"
"You are children. While you are in thisss hall, you are children—mossst importantly you are Sssalazar'sss children. Clevernesss isss a great desssire, but it all ssseemsss ssso ssseriousss. There isss no point, if you are unhappy."
Harry felt… cold, in a way. 'There's no point if you are unhappy'? Did it even matter if he was unhappy if he wasn't alive?
Because if he went back to the Dursleys, if another teacher betrayed them, if the monster turned out to be as murderous as it sounded… if someone he cared about died, then it didn't matter how happy he was now.
"What if there are dire consssequencccesss if I don't sssucceed? No matter my age, I'll likely die before the sssummer is out if I can't do thisss, and do it myssself."
"Sssalazar would be ssso sssad to hear it." It sounded genuinely sorrowful too. It was nice that it at least acknowledged his fears, not dismissing them as outlandish ramblings of a twelve-year-old, but the sadness also seemed… bigger, somehow. "If that isss the cassse, then at leassst ssspend less time worrying about it. Do it well, but make it far more effortlesss then that."
"But it's not that easssy. It isssn't effortlesss." He grit his teeth, though forcing himself to keep polite.
"Then make it ssso." Harry got the feeling it'd be smiling at him if it could. "If you cannot do it easssily, then you are gracelesss. You will run out of time and effort to give."
"I don't know what that meansss."
"Very well." It seemed it was fine with his lack of understanding and his frustration, which was kind of annoying. "Isss that all you need of me?"
He ducked his head respectfully despite his annoyance. "It isss for now… thank you for your guidance."
"I do not mind Sssalazar'sss children, even if you claim not to be one. It was interesssting… and I wish you luck with your challengesss, young one."
"Thank you. I may need that luck."