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Chapter Text

After returning to his eighth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was desperate to find some sense of normalcy. It was odd that the only place where he truly felt it was when he was arguing with none other than the supremely annoying Draco Malfoy.

That’s not to say Harry liked him as a friend or even particularly enjoyed his presence. However, their bickering spats and their somehow intensified rivalry had taken on a less life-threatening and more competitive role. It gave Harry something to do, a goal to achieve, a race to win, without making him feel like he had the weight of the enormously fat wizarding world on his shoulders. Whether he’d like to admit it or not.

Slughorn interrupted Harry’s extremely important train of thought, regarding the upcoming Slytherin vs Gryffindor quidditch match, when his charmed timer went off. “Alright, class.” He began cheerfully, “Be ready to present your Amortentia to the class.”

Harry froze. He had been distracted plotting the exact way he would make Malfoy kiss his boots once Gryffindor swept the quidditch match. He looked down at his potion. Not only was it completely over-blended, but he had been mixing clockwise instead of counterclockwise. It bubbled threateningly at him. Harry glanced over at Hermione. Of course hers was bubbling in just the right intervals, along with Ron’s which seemed somewhat decent.

Then, Harry made the irreversible mistake of glancing over at Malfoy’s potion.

“Oi!” Malfoy grinned. “Professor! The chosen one is trying to cheat off of me.” His friends, Pansy and Blaise giggled mercilessly behind him.

“Am not!” Harry argued. “I was just trying to see what not to do.”

Slughorn waddled over to Harry’s cauldron. “Thank you both for that outburst.” He frowned. “Mr Potter, since your potion has apparently come out so well, why don’t you tell us what you smell out of it.”

Harry grimaced. The ‘Amortentia’ released a long slow fart. “I don’t think that’s necessary-”

“Go on then,” Slughorn insisted. “Smell it.”

Hermione and Ron looked over at Harry, absolutely drenched with pity. Harry swallowed the single molecule of saliva in his dangerously dry mouth. He leant down and smelled his potion.

It smelt like right piss. “I smell…” He glanced around the room, searching for something that he could lie about smelling. Centaur hooves? Seaweed from the bottom of the great lake? Butterfly wings! “Butterflies.”

Hermione slapped her hand against her forehead. Malfoy wasted no time stalking over to Harry. “Butterflies don’t smell like anything, twat.” He lent down and smelled Harry’s potion. “This smells like right piss!”

Slughorn shook his head disapprovingly. This was nearly a daily occurrence in potions class since the year had begun. He had long given up on breaking up the arguments.

“Did you hear that, guys?” Harry announced. “Malfoy’s soulmate stinks like piss!”

Malfoy stammered, clearly shocked by Harry’s sudden wit. Harry was a bit surprised himself, if he was being completely honest. “It’s not my soulmate- it’s your idiot potion!”

“Well let’s ask the class, shall we? Raise your hand if you think Malfoy’s soulmate stinks like piss!” Harry called out.

Ron raised his hand. Hermione quickly slapped it out of the air. Harry raised his hand. “I think that settles it.”

Malfoy slapped his hand out of the air. Harry gasped. Harry slapped Malfoy’s hand back. A slap fight quickly ensued.

Ron and Blaise let out a shared sigh as they moved to break up the fight, a similar daily occurrence. Only this time, Malfoy bumped the table that the cauldron had been resting on.

Almost in slow motion, the table had knocked into Harry, knocking him off balance. Harry instinctively grabbed onto the closest thing, Malfoy, gripping him by the collar. Harry’s piss potion soared through the air, splattering onto Harry, who was then crushed by Malfoy’s falling body.

Within seconds they were both soaked with the oddly orange substance.

Instead of making Harry fall madly in love with Ron, the first person he saw while being dragged away from the mess he had made, the potion burned. It burned like all hell. His ears were ringing. He could hear Malfoy sputtering nonsense. Everyone sounded like they were underwater.

“He’s killed me” Harry’s eyes glazed over to Malfoy. Blaise and Pansy surrounded him. The potion had melted a portion of his robes. “Ponter… he kilt me…”

Harry blacked out.

---

There was a loud slam. Harry woke up, letting out a scream that was more girlish than he’d like to admit. He had expected to be in the all-too-familiar hospital wing. Instead, he was strapped to a chair in Headmistress McGonagall’s office. Finally processing his situation, he stared into the eyes of a startlingly calm Headmistress.

“What’s happened?!” Harry asked, wiggling in his restraints.

“Shut it, will you?”

Harry’s head whipped to his right. There was Malfoy strapped to the chair beside him. His tie had been completely disintegrated, along with the fabric on his shoulder. “Merlin.” Harry looked down at his own robes. His pants had melted below the knee. “Malfoy’s fault.”

“Tried that already.” Malfoy grumbled. “She’s not having it.”

McGonagall opened her tightly pinched mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted. Professor Flitwick slammed the office door open.

“Headmistress- There’s been another-” Professor Flitwick stopped himself when he noticed Harry and Malfoy’s presence. “There’s been a …development.”

McGonagall rose out of her lavish seat. Gracefully, she whipped around and floated towards the far corner of her office and up a short flight up stairs. Flitwick jiggled behind her as he followed.

Harry and Malfoy glanced at each other, searching for an answer. All Harry found were that his glasses were horribly cracked and that Malfoy needed to put whatever styling potion he had used down.

Flitwick and McGonagall began their very hushed- and seemingly very tense- conversation in their corner. Harry couldn’t help it- he had to know. He strained his ears, desperately trying to listen. Was it about Voldemort? Remaining Death Eaters that had somehow escaped punishment? He leaned forward as far as his restraints would allow.

“And what precisely do you think you’re doing?” Malfoy hissed in a low whisper.

“Put your head back in your own arse and shut it! I’m trying to listen.”

Malfoy scoffed. “You really can’t hear them? I swear, you’re like an old man trapped in a house elf’s body.”

Harry decided to ignore the house elf comment. After all - he had grown a notable 2 inches since the end of the war. He briefly thought about the times he had blasted his walkman too loud, a practice which deeply scared and confused Ron- who couldn’t understand the morals behind trapping tiny singers in an earpiece. Is Harry really losing his hearing? How many spells did he take to the head these past seven years?

Harry whipped his head to look at Malfoy so quickly that he rocked his chair. “What are they saying, then? Since your ears are so blooming sharp.”

“Pfft. Like I’d tell you.” Malfoy put his ever pointy nose up into the air.

Harry didn’t accept that as defeat. With all his might, he thrusted forward, inching the chair closer to McGonagall. Amazed that it worked- and that it somehow didn’t alert McGonagall- he continued to scoot closer.

Malfoy, having to make everything a competition, also began to scoot. He chased Harry in a tremendously slow race. Eventually, Harry was close enough to make out the conversation.

“... and it’s believed he is still in the forbidden forest-” Flitwick was nervous. Too nervous. “It’s already been too long- we have no idea how strong he has gotten!”

Harry’s blood ran cold. There’s no way Voldemort had come back. It was impossible- it had to be.

“Calm yourself, Filius.” McGonagall asserted. “I’ll contact the ministry and have them send Aurors down here as soon as possible. With any luck, this beast will be gone by the end of the month.”

“Month?!” Flitwick squeaked. “We’re risking the safety of our students! We need to make an announcement as soon as possible-”

“Absolutely not. It will only create panic. The students have been through enough- things are still tense from the war- and we are overcapacity with the Eight Years having to finish their schooling. The last thing we need is to add to that stress. This stays between us and select few personnel. Understood?”

“Of course, Headmistress. But-”

Harry had made the unforgivable mistake of leaning too far forward. He fell flat on his face, arse in the air- still tied to the chair. Malfoy began to laugh, which turned out to be a much worse crime, as McGonagall had finally noticed.

“You boys are truly something else.” She scowled.

With the flick of her wand, they were outside the castle in the middle of the quidditch pitch. Nearly instantly, lightning flashed, and it began to pour so hard and so loud Harry almost couldn’t hear Malfoy yelling at him. Almost.

“You just had to know what they were saying, didn’t you? What a twat you are.” Malfoy wiggled around in his seat, trying to free himself.

Harry was just happy to be right side up again. “Oh, like you weren’t hanging on to every word they were saying.”

“I could be in danger, you know.” Malfoy shook some of the freezing cold water out of his hair, to no avail. “It’s probably your fan club out there in the forest.”

Harry had already made up his mind. He was going to sneak out into the forest and stop whatever creature was terrorizing professor Flitwick himself. It was a dastardly stupid idea, considering he had no real knowledge of what he’d be up against, but he didn’t care. Every single year he had been a student at Hogwarts he had protected the school, he wasn’t going to stop now.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Ginny discovered Harry and Malfoy in the Quidditch Pitch. It had been an hour of them sitting in the frigid rain. Ginny was reluctant to set Malfoy free, but eventually had pity on him when she realized Harry and Malfoy had both lost their voices from yelling at each other for so long.

Harry and Ginny walked back to the Gryffindor common room together. Harry confided in her the story of what happened in potions class- what he could remember at least. Ron had already given her the gist of it, so Harry’s poor retelling had proved itself pointless. Ginny thought it was hilarious. He chose to keep his time in McGonagall's office to himself. If his friends found out, they would want to come with him- or worse- stop him from going altogether.

He stalked up into his dorm and showered. Once he had washed all the potion sludge and rainwater off his body, he promptly threw away his uniform and began to prepare for his trip to the forbidden forest.

Admittedly, he didn’t have much experience camping out in the woods. Other than the time that Uncle Vernon ‘forgot’ him outside when he was a little boy, Harry hadn’t spent much time out in the elements. He packed the basics, a small tent (last used when he and Ron camped outside the Quidditch stadium trying to get tickets), a canteen, a lantern, his wand, a few rations for dinner, and some clothes.

He ate a large dinner in the Great Hall and then waited around for night to fall. Once it was late enough, he slipped on his coat and disappeared down a corridor and out to the forest.

The Forbidden Forest was just as formidable as before. Tall, looming trees with twisted trunks, dark plants with minds of their own, the constant scampering of little creatures every time he made a noise. Harry was older and, in his opinion, wiser than before—wise enough, he thought, to venture into the forest by himself.

He had to admit, though. He was a little spooked.

Harry pushed through his feelings and set up his camp deep into the forest. He found a clearing in the trees and the bushes and quickly put his tent down. Once he had finished with his makeshift shelter, he was ready to go out and explore the Forbidden Forest himself.

Only, he was pretty sure he had already walked past that rock. Same with that tree. And that large spider. He had been roaming around in circles aimlessly. He was starting to feel particularly stupid for running off into the forest with no game plan and no clue what he was looking for.

Eventually he found something.

A robe. A tiny robe. The sight made his heart clench. What could such a tiny robe be doing out here? It had to have been that of a first year. He called out, hoping that whoever it belonged to was still nearby, but to no avail. It was a hufflepuff robe, a bit torn and dirty. It deeply concerned Harry.

He thought back to what Flitwick had said about the beast getting stronger. Harry grew more concerned about the owner of the robe. Is it possible that there is a beast in the forest feeding off of students to become more powerful? If so, had Harry run right into its trap?

After a few hours of roaming the woods, Harry had found a few more items. A shoe, a broken wand, a shattered lantern, and the odd scrap of paper. Harry decided to go back to camp, planning to carefully survey the forest again the next day, when he had the advantage over whatever was in there.

It took a while, but Harry was actually able to fall asleep in his tent. He was surrounded by the items he had brought from the dorms, as well as the things that he had found in the forest. He had been asleep for less than an hour when he was startled awake by a loud crack. It sounded like it was right on top of him.

In an instant, Harry had shot up and out of the tent. A tall tree from behind his tent fell over. Harry jumped out of the way and fell onto the dirt, rolling to safety. The tree completely crushed his tent. It would have killed him had he not woken up.

Shocked, Harry made his way over to examine the tree, hoping to find the cause. He was expecting it to be charred as if it were struck by lightning. Only, when he looked at the severed part of the tree, it looked like teeth marks. Big, sharp, dagger-like teeth.

Harry lit his wand. It illuminated a small portion of the forest around him. In the distance, hiding behind the dense and thorny bushes, was a pair of glowing white eyes. Before he could decide to advance or retreat, he heard a loud shriek.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Harry was beyond terrified at this point. He took off running.

It had become clear to him that he wouldn’t be able to go up against the beast without a plan. If it was a beast at all. Harry went back to the possibility of a Death Eater. He wasn’t sure what kind of spell could gnaw through a tree, but he wasn’t ruling it out.

He ran through the Forbidden Forest, trying his best not to trip on thick roots of trees. He could hardly see, the light being emitted from his wand could only show him things at arm’s length, maybe slightly farther than that. He couldn’t stop running. Clearly whatever it was in the forest was willing to kill him.

Harry thought he had spotted a clearing in the trees, the exit. He put his wand in his back pocket and ran forward as fast as he could.

Out of nowhere, Harry was struck with an unimaginable amount of force. It completely knocked him over, onto the cold wet forest floor. His glasses flew off of his face and his wand was knocked out of his hand. Whatever had hit him was now lying in front of him, groaning in pain.

No matter how dark it was, Harry could recognize that hair from anywhere. “Malfoy?!”

Malfoy reeled in pain. He lifted his head up. His eyes locked onto Harry for a moment, before switching to something just behind Harry’s head. His eyes opened wider in terror. “Potter- watch out!

---

Harry’s second time blacking out in 24 hours, not too bad if he’d say so himself. He woke up on a cold patch of grass, sometime early morning judging by the sun’s position in the sky. After a brief moment of taking in his surroundings, Harry’s memory of the night before returned and he sat straight up, popping off the ground like a vampire from its coffin.

Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Harry was relieved by that at first. Then, realization set in.

Malfoy. In the Forbidden Forest. In the middle of the night. Running so fast that he and Harry almost knocked each other out. His final words were “Potter- watch out!” before Harry was out cold. The gears in Harry’s head were turning. Very slowly, mind you, but still turning nonetheless.

“Merlin! Malfoy’s been eaten by the beast!” Harry said to himself, shocked. He let the thought sit for a little while longer. “McGonagall is going to kill me!”

“Good to see that’s where your priorities are.” The voice startled Harry.

Harry turned around, squinting beyond all reasonable belief. “Malfoy? Did the beast eat you?”

“Oh, that’s right. You need your muggle glasses.” Malfoy tossed them over to Harry. “No, I wasn’t eaten. As happy as that would have made you.”

Harry put on his glasses. Malfoy looked disheveled. Well, disheveled for him, which is Harry’s normal. His hair was messy and in his eyes, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he had a few scratches on his exposed skin. All and all, the prick was still alive. “What were you doing in the forest last night?!” Harry demanded. A pinecone fell on the top of his head, swiftly reminding him of another important fact- “What are you doing in the forest right now?!”

“Pfft. Like I’d tell you.”

Harry leapt towards Malfoy, triggering another slap fight. It was interrupted by a loud roar.

It was so loud and powerful that it blew Harry’s hair completely out his face, exposing his scarred forehead. He turned to Malfoy. Could a boy this thin release gas that powerful?

“Malfoy- what in Merlin’s name did you eat out here?”

“That wasn’t me, you imbecile!” Malfoy was clearly at his wit’s end. “That was the beast!”

Harry accepted that as the truth… For now. “I need to get you out of here. This is my responsibility.”

“Say's who?”

Harry had never been asked that before. Voldemort, maybe? When he made Harry the chosen one? “Says me.”

“Well, that’s too bad. You think because you’re the chosen one and you’re all brave and charming and... whatever else... that you can just do what you want, whenever you want. Well, you’re wrong! I’m going to be the one to locate the beast and I’m going to be the one to save Hogwarts. You can find something else to do. How about that ginger girl?”

“Ron is a boy, thank you.” Harry couldn’t understand Malfoy’s sudden urge to be a hero. Harry realized that the information he could get out of Malfoy was going to be extremely limited. “What was it that knocked me out last night?”

Malfoy turned his back to Harry as he carved a mark in one of the trees. “A large rock. A cannon, almost. Last night they started coming out of nowhere. It hit a tree before it got you, which is the only reason you’re still alive.”

“Is that why you were running?”

“I was not running. Malfoy’s don’t run. We prance.”

“I would argue that prancing is more gay than running.”

“I would argue that I should have left you in the middle of the forest last night so the rats that sculpted that nest you call hair could have come home.” Malfoy snapped.

It occurred to Harry that Malfoy must have dragged him to safety last night. The thought of it made his stomach churn in an odd way. Malfoy saving Harry? The bastard must be up to something…

“Right. Well, either way we need to get out of this forest. My supplies were completely destroyed last night.” Harry watched Malfoy stomp around, marking different trees. Harry stood up and began to walk towards a clearing in the trees. This one was less promising than the one from last night, but still a clearing nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Potter.” Malfoy warned.

“Oh, sorry. Should I prance towards the exit instead? Shut it. I’m leaving and when I get back you’d better not be here. It’s too dangerous.” Harry confidently walked towards the exit.

When he reached the opening amongst the trees, he could see Hogwarts in the distance. He could see the rolling hills of green grass, the early morning sun, the Great Lake’s water glistening, and students moseying about. He muttered to himself something about how Malfoy’s a jerk who was probably breastfed till secondary school and doesn’t know anything.

Right as he was going to cross the threshold from the forest to the wonderful open air, he was sucked back into the forest. The ground shifted beneath him. It felt almost like he had apparated, only more forceful. He ended up right next to Malfoy, who was still carving trees.

“I- but- the exit… huh?” Harry stammered, looking around.

“I told you not to go.”

“You knew that would happen?!” Harry was bewildered. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I told you. With my eyes.” Malfoy wiggled his eyebrows and then snickered. “On a serious note, though, we are trapped. And I hate you.”

Chapter Text

Fighting him was getting Harry nowhere. Harry attempted to leave the forest through various different exits, all of which seemed to yank him back to Malfoy, who was acting annoyingly unbothered about the whole thing.

“We could be stuck in here for life, you know!” Harry shouted, watching Malfoy fix his hair in the reflection of a shallow pond.

Malfoy didn’t respond. “I took that into consideration when I came here. That I might not return home.”

Harry was even more annoyed by that. Stupid Malfoy. Trying to act all heroic and mysterious. That was Harry’s job.

Things became especially tense when Harry decided to shoot a spell towards an exit. It was a simple charm meant to release a firework. He was testing to see if the magic could pass through towards Hogwarts.

Of course the spell was also not able to leave, and it bounced right back towards Harry. He was able to dodge, but Malfoy was not so fortunate. It lit his trousers on fire. Malfoy responded by essentially tasing Harry with a spell that was loved amongst Malfoy and his henchmen.

They shot spells back and forth, spouting curse words at each other, screaming at the other to leave the forest and let them handle it. Eventually, the sky flickered. They both froze mid fight. As if it were a candle on its last legs, the sky rapidly changed from day to night, on to off. Harry had never seen a sight so awful.

They paused their fight. “It’s coming.” Malfoy said.

Harry looked around, tightly gripping his wand. Suddenly, they were back to back, slowly surveying their surroundings in the strikingly dark environment. Harry’s eyes were still adjusting to the sudden change. “Stay behind me.” Harry commanded.

“Why? Cause that’s your good side? I’m not taking orders, Potter.”

His backside was his good side? He’d say his butt was average. Nothing to write home about. That must be part of Malfoy’s plan, that bastard. He was just saying that so Harry would turn around more often and be left defenseless. Harry’s face tightened.

“Remind me who saved the wizarding world again?” Harry whispered back, maintaining his fighting stance.

“Remind me how to spell ‘wizarding world’?”

Harry almost laughed at that. Malfoy- that bastard. Making Harry laugh. Without a doubt, that was a part of his plan too. Harry had to stay strong. He couldn’t fall for such trickery. One little laugh, the next thing you know Harry is stranded in the forest naked- or worse- in satin pajamas! “Touche.” Was all that Harry dared to give Malfoy in return.

A low hum came from the forest. Then a menacing green fog emerged from within the trees. Harry was right about Malfoy’s fart from earlier- he knew that Malfoy had lied about it not being him-

The fog reached their feet. Then, it turned into water.

Almost like a bubble had burst, all the fog exploded into copious amounts of water. The water flooded through the trees, completely uprooting plants and sending them flying towards the defenseless boys, who ran away from the water in different directions.

Malfoy swiftly scaled a tree. Harry tried his luck by sitting on a large rock. The water rushed past them, only getting more murky and dark with the amount of things it had picked up. Harry forced himself to think. Think of something, anything, that could get them out of this situation. He glanced over to Malfoy, whose tree was being shaken by the forceful tsunami of water.

As Harry tried to think of a solution, he noticed another little shoe floating past him. Was it the same shoe he had found last night? How many students had gone missing in the forest?

“Potter! The water!”
Harry turned to see a massive wave, reaching over all the trees, flying towards him. “Protego!”

---

Harry and Malfoy sat side by side, soaking wet. Miserable, angry, tired, but luckily not so thirsty anymore.

Harry peeled off his shirt.

Malfoy gagged. “God, you’re fat.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Harry rolled his eyes. He was not fat. Malfoy was just a twig. Harry began wringing out his shirt. Dirty water poured out of it.

The water had stopped after around ten minutes. Not before it managed to knock Harry and Malfoy into a large lake, somewhere in the far end of the forest. They both nearly drowned, saved only by the fact that Harry managed to grab onto a rope which had been left hanging from the side of a steep cliff just above the lake. It was probably left by some daredevil students who were swinging into the lake. Malfoy clung onto Harry’s leg, keeping his head above water. Eventually, the water flickered in and out of existence, very similar to how day flickered to night, and they both fell into the lake.

When Harry began to wring out his trousers, Malfoy shot up suddenly. “I’m going to go. Now.”

“Malfoy, you’re soaked. You’re an easy target. Just stay here till we’re dry, then we’ll go our separate ways.” Harry looked over his shoulder at Malfoy, who was avoiding his eyes. He really was defenseless. His once nice button down shirt was now torn and clinging to his body. His trousers were wet and dripping, and his shoes had completely gone missing.

“I just don’t want you to think we’re working together.” Malfoy spat. “This is my mission.”

Harry went back to wringing out his trousers. “If you want to be delusional, that's fine with me. You saved me last night and I saved you today. We’re even. If you want to run- I mean- prance into danger be my guest.”

He listened as Malfoy disappeared into the forest. He wondered if saying that was too far. Would a hero like him really let Malfoy go off by himself? On the other hand, Malfoy is a prick who doesn’t listen to anything Harry says. Chances are Harry would end up getting himself killed just to save Malfoy, who just moments ago called him fat. Although, now Harry was alone.

Is a bad ally better than no ally?

“Fuck that guy.” Harry mumbled. His mind was made up. He didn’t need Malfoy of all people to protect him. In fact, Malfoy was just distracting him from the real task at hand. Now that he had finally left, Harry was free to focus on finding the root of these anomalies.

Harry finished wringing out his clothes, which were still damp to the touch, but much more tolerable now. He too had lost his shoes during the tsunami attack. He decided that his socks would have to be enough for now.

“Harry.”

Harry whipped around. Behind him was Ron. Harry leapt up out of sheer joy. “Ron! Thank Merlin you’re here!” He ran towards Ron and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “There is something awful in this forest. More awful than usual, I mean.”

Ron remained silent. His body was cold. He didn’t hug Harry back. Harry pulled away, still relieved that Ron had come to his rescue.

“Which way did you enter from? It’s the weirdest thing, mate. No matter what, I can’t leave. It’s like there’s an invisible wall surrounding the forest!”

Ron stared blankly forward. Harry took a step back. “Ron? Are you okay? Where’s Hermione?”

Ron raised his wand, pointing it directly at Harry’s heart. “Ron? You’re scaring me. Say something.”

“Flipendo.”

Harry flew backwards, slamming up against the trunk of a tree. It knocked the wind out of him. He fought to catch his breath. He looked back up at Ron, who was slowly approaching him.

Only it wasn’t Ron. The thing he had been talking to- there were no irises in its eyes. Its eyes were white, nearly glowing white.

Harry’s heart sank. The horror set in quick. “Expelliarmus!” Ron’s wand flew out of his hand.

Harry ran for his life. A lone tear fell from his eye. Has the forest gotten Ron too?

Chapter Text

‘Ron’ shot spell after spell in the forest. Harry hid behind a tree, watching powerful bursts of magic stream past him, narrowly avoiding him. He couldn’t catch his breath. He was exhausted. It seemed the Forbidden Forest was going to keep pushing him till he fell over dead.

The top of the tree Harry had been cowering behind was blasted into smithereens, avoiding Harry’s head by mere millimeters. He leaned to his left. Harry set his target to the imposter and shot a weak but direct “Stupefy.”

The monster froze, but Harry could tell it wouldn’t hold for long. He staggered deeper into the forest, trying desperately to buy himself some time. It seemed like the trees were closing in on him. Nowhere felt safe.

He tried to find the strength to run. He stared at the sky. A bird flew overhead. It went over Harry’s head and up above the trees.

The bird. It escaped.

Harry shot his patronus into the sky. The beautiful stag escaped the forest, too. The only way out was up.

Harry, overcome with relief by the possibility of escape, collapsed onto the ground.

He was hurt, and badly so. It appeared that the monster who stole Ron’s appearance had done more damage than he had previously thought. His legs had gone completely numb. He felt as though he could sleep forever. Harry closed his eyes, only for a moment. Someone began to shake him.

“Get up!” His voice was muffled. “You need to get up!”

Harry tried to lift his head. It was heavier than he remembered.

Suddenly, another figure emerged from the trees.

Narcissa Malfoy. She was as elegant as ever. She looked down at the ground, wand tightly gripped in her hand. Harry was stunned. She pointed her wand at Harry.

“Mother?” It was Malfoy who had been shaking Harry. “Mother, what are you doing here?! You need to leave right now! There’s a beast in these woods!”

Harry could barely speak. “It’s not her…”

“Potter!” Malfoy picked Harry up by his shoulders. “Mother, he’s still breathing. We need help!”

“That’s not your mother… get out of here…” Harry managed to choke out. He felt as though there was blood in his lungs. Had he broken a rib when he hit the tree? Was he ever going to get back to Hogwarts?

“What are you talking about? She’s right… there…” Malfoy’s voice trailed off. His ‘mother’s’ white eyes met Malfoy’s. “What have they done to her?”

“Accio broom.” Harry’s wand released a pitiful spark. He doubted any broom would be able to make it to him. It was a shot in the dark.

‘Narcissa’ shot a stupefy towards Malfoy, who cast a shield around himself and Harry. It bounced off the shield, but not without cracking the surface of it. His magic was a beautiful emerald green. Harry felt as though he was seeing the end of his life

‘Ron’ reemerged from the darkness. His once bright red hair was darkened, his glowing eyes shining through his fringe. He raised his crooked wand and shot spell after spell at the weakening shield.

“This won’t hold for much longer.” Malfoy flinched as another spell left a devastating crack in his shield. “I shouldn’t have walked away from you.”

Harry wondered if Malfoy was being genuine this whole time. Looking at him now, he looked scared, concerned, and dare Harry say… caring. Harry’s eyes drifted away from Malfoy’s and into the sky.

“Look at me, Potter.” Malfoy snarled. “You’re not going to die here, it’s only going to make my life worse.”

Harry quickly forgot about calling Malfoy ‘caring’.

A little wooden stick broke through the dark sky. It flew directly down towards Harry, who weakly extended his arm.

“Don’t tell me you want a hug.” Malfoy strained as he tried to stop the shield from buckling under the weight of the ceaseless attacks.

The broom fell down with such force that it broke the shield. It landed perfectly in Harry’s outstretched hand. There was no time to waste. The imposters had already begun to brew another spell, more deadly than the last. Harry tightened his grip on the broom.

With all his might, Harry willed the broom to fly up. With a sudden burst of speed from off the ground and into the sky, Malfoy scrambled to hang onto the broom itself, his and Harry’s arms intertwined as they clung to life.

The broom soared out of the forest, above the looming trees, and out of the darkness. Once they had broken into the sky, they realized it was early morning. The Forbidden Forest’s endless tricks had made them lose all sense of time. They twirled and jolted around in the sky, struggling to control the broom.

The sun hit Malfoy’s eyes. His forehead had been bloodied, his eyes were paler, nearly gray, and he was white as a ghost. Harry thought for a moment that maybe they had both died in the forest, and that god was playing his last joke on Harry by making Malfoy look angelic. Almost angelic, that is.

The broom tilted towards the ground, aiming to the fields just outside of Hogwarts. The boys descended with such speed that the skin and fat on their faces rippled in the wind. Malfoy managed to straddle the broom and yank it up with such force that he slowed the fall, just in time for them to hit the ground without dying. They fell off of the broom and rolled in the grass, landing directly next to each other, lying shoulder to shoulder, watching the sun rise.

“You saved us.” Malfoy sputtered after a long silence. “How did you know that we had to go…”

Harry passed out.

——

Believe it or not, Harry had grown tired of passing out. He had also grown tired of seeing Draco Malfoy, who was in the hospital bed next to his.

His whole body ached. The light peaked in through the windows and directly into his eyes.

“Ron, he’s awake!” Hermione’s sweet voice. He was afraid he wouldn’t hear it again.

“Harry! I thought I’d lost you there! Where the bloody hell were you?!” Harry shot up at the sight of Ron. He reached to draw his wand, but it was gone. “Mate, what’s wrong?”

He stared into Ron’s blue eyes. “Oh, it really is you!” He squeezed Ron into a tight embrace.

“Of course it’s me.” Ron laughed. “Not all ginger blokes look the same, you know.”

Harry laughed. He quickly regretted that. He winced in pain.

“Harry.” Hermione demanded. “Tell us what happened. Where did you sneak off too?!” She dropped her voice into a whisper. “Did Draco kidnap you?”

“As if I could kidnap someone that fat.” Malfoy butted in.

Harry frowned. “Would you stop it with that?!” He turned back to his friends. “No, it wasn’t his fault. In a way. The truth is, there’s something going on in the-“

McGonagall burst through the doors of the hospital wing.. “Harold James Potter.” She spoke with such conviction that Harry pondered for a second if his full name really was Harold. “Draco Lucius Malfoy.” She added.

Hermione and Ron quickly got out of her way as she stood between the two hospital beds.

“What precisely were you two boys doing that left you emaciated outside of the school?”

“Potter’s fault.” “Malfoy’s fault.” They were too predictable.

“That won’t work this time, boys. Just as it hasn't worked the other fifty times you’ve tried that sorry excuse. There was a small explosion that occurred in the Forbidden Forest last night. Would either of you gentlemen be so kind as to explain why that was?”

“Malfoy farted.” Harry wasn’t thinking clearly. “Then it turned into water.”

“You are such a little twat.” Malfoy spat. “I didn’t fart. Malfoys don’t do that.”

It occurred to Harry that Malfoy must also be partially high off of whatever pain killing potion they were given.

“Headmistress, I don’t think either of them are coherent enough to tell us-“

McGonagall cut Hermione off. “You boys will rest another day. Then you are to report to my office.”

Just as quickly as she came, she left, sweeping the room with her large cloak. Ron rubbed his eyebrows. “She’s going to kill Harry.”

Hermione rubbed his back. “She won’t kill him. Torture maybe, but she probably won’t kill him.”

Ron was angry. “Now Harry’s in trouble, when he probably only went into the forest to rescue Princess Malfoy over here. Harry, mate, you can’t risk your life for other people anymore. Look at the state you're in!”

Hermione agreed. Then her and Ron lectured Harry until he dozed off.

When he dared to wake up again, it was in the middle of the night. His eyes slowly opened. He rubbed the sleep from them and reached for his glasses. He put them on and opened his eyes for a final time, actually ready to process the room around him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he came face to face with a crazed Malfoy, who towered over his bed like a supervillain.

“What on Earth are you doing?!” Harry whispered. “You’re going to scare me to death!”

Malfoy scoffed. “As if you believe in death. Save it for The Daily Prophet, Potter.” Malfoy was still in his hospital gown, and probably still inebriated off of some potion. “We need to get our stories straight.”

“My story is straight.” Harry argued. “I have nothing to hide. You on the other hand- Merlin only knows what you were up to in that forest while I wasn’t looking.”

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? You’re not just pretending because you think it’s cute?” Malfoy rolled his eyes. “You’re really just going to tell McGonagall every detail about the hell we just lived through?!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry rolled over, hoping the boy would stop his madness and let him sleep. “She’s the headmistress after all. I think she knows better than some blonde with hair pomade for brains.”

Malfoy huffed. “You don’t understand. We don’t know who is controlling whatever magic is in the forest. If we tell her she’s going to get in contact with the ministry, and they’ll have all of Hogwarts on lock-down. Then both of us lose our chance to save Hogwarts from whatever devilish thing is in the forest.”

“You know what?” Harry turned back to Malfoy. “I’d rather that than die wet and cold and in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Ugh. That’s the last time I try to use logic on you.” Malfoy scuffled off back to his bed.

Harry couldn’t fall back asleep. Was there any merit to Malfoy’s words? Would it be best to leave some stuff out when he met with McGonagall? How much does she know about what’s going on in the Forbidden Forest?

Harry didn’t know who to trust. Should he keep his enemies closer than his friends?

Chapter Text

Harry wheeled into McGonagall’s office. Malfoy hobbled in on crutches behind him. It was, no doubt, the strangest and funniest thing the conglomeration of students that had followed them from the Hospital Wing had ever seen. Once they were finally inside, McGonagall shut the door behind them with the flick of her wand, locking out the prying eyes of all the curious Hogwarts students.

“It goes without saying that you are both in trouble for this… stunt… you decided to pull.” Her words were cold and calculated. “However, your punishments could be lessened if you come clean and tell me every detail of what happened in the Forbidden Forest.”

Harry turned to look at Malfoy, whose head was wrapped in a bandage that ruffled his usually pristine hair. Malfoy was being calculated as well. “I think we had better ask you everything that you know about the forest.” He eyed McGonagall.

She paused. “I don’t know anything, quite frankly.”

Harry interjected. “What? But Professor Flitwick came in here panicked the other day- you said there was a beast in the forest!”

McGonagall maintained her innocence. “What you didn’t hear was Flitwick telling me that he only had mere theories of whatever creature had been taking residence in that forest. He had seen a pair of white glowing eyes one night coming from the forest, and we have been carefully monitoring the cases of a few missing students.”

Malfoy and Harry looked at each other. They finally agreed on something, which was being suspicious of her story.

“The ones you should be suspicious of are those in the ministry.” McGonagall dropped her voice slightly. “They somehow know that the two of you ventured into the forest and made it out, apparently something very noteworthy to them. They plan to come down here and take you boys up to the ministry itself for an ‘interview’.” She searched the two boys for a reaction.

Harry felt his stomach drop. He had really gotten himself in some deep trouble this time. He thought about Malfoy’s plan to withhold the truth from McGonagall.

She continued her speech. “I can only protect you if I know the truth. I would be very hesitant to let you go there knowing the state it's in after the war. Frankly, I’m afraid of the kind of things they’re up to. I don't want to send any student up there, let alone two extremely high profile ones.” She looked them both up and down. “I can assure you that you can trust me.”

Harry believed her. Or at least, he really really wanted to. He felt unsure. What if the people from the Ministry of Magic came down here and said the same thing? What would he do then? He tried to trust McGonagall. She had helped him through a lot. He turned to Malfoy, who was seemingly also lost in thought.

Harry began. “The truth is, I snuck in there at night. I thought I could fight whatever was in there.” Harry battled with what he should and shouldn’t say. “Only, I couldn’t. It was dark magic, it had to be. Malfoy found me and we managed to escape together.”

“Mr Malfoy. Do you agree with this version of events?”

He was slow to answer. “Yes.”

“Is that all you two can recall from your time in the forest?” She stared up at them through one furrowed brow.

They nodded.

“Well, then it appears you have nothing to hide from the ministry.” She clasped her hands together. “I’ll alert them about your… limited memories. If they still decide to come I’ll be there to supervise their interview. Get back to rest, gentlemen.”

As Malfoy and Harry hobbled out of McGonagall’s office, they stared at each other. A look of shared stress.

“What was that old bag of gas talking about?” Malfoy’s eyebrows were in his hairline. “What could the ministry possibly be doing that has scared the likes of her?”

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Harry wheeled himself around the corridor. “I doubt we’re gonna get off the hook that easily if they come down here.”

Harry thought back to two days prior. The only thing that was on his mind was Quidditch. Now the government was after him, and it appeared that his only ally was his biggest rival.

“Wait-!” Harry’s mind was flooded with things he had almost forgotten. “Our Quidditch match!”

Malfoy slapped his forehead. “Damn it. I’d completely forgotten about all of that. Since you decided to get me into this big mess.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t stay away from me.”

Malfoy dropped one of his crutches. “Keep being stupid and see where that gets you, Potter.” He turned his face away from Harry as he picked his crutch back up. “I know where you’re sleeping tonight.”

Harry and Malfoy retreated back into the hospital wing. Malfoy’s henchmen came to pay their leader a visit.

Blaise was a good looking guy. Not in a weird way, though. Harry thought he was good looking, the normal amount that guys find other guys good looking, of course. Blaise began to talk about Quidditch, much to Pansy’s dismay. “How are we gonna win this match when our seeker can’t even wipe his own arse?”

Malfoy scoffed. “Even in this state, I’ll do whatever it takes to beat stupid Potter and his stupid band of Gryffindorks.”

Harry rolled over in his bed to face the wall. He put a pillow over his ear. Malfoy talked a big game, but Harry knew he was going to win the match no matter what. Slytherins were all bark and no bite.

Pansy huffed. “You boys are worried about all the wrong things. We have to start planning the after party now. That’s all anyone will remember, you know that just as well as I do.”

Blaise hummed in agreement. “Pansy is right. It will be the best thing to boost morale for the Slytherin house. We’ve always been known to throw the best after parties.”

Malfoy shushed them. “You’d better keep it down about that before Golden Boy over here thinks he’s invited.”

Harry decided to ignore that. It was a painful thought. Slytherin? Known for throwing parties? Harry had never been invited? How come no one told him? Was he not as popular as he thought? Whatever, he didn’t have time for juvenile parties. He was busy saving the Wizarding World. Who cares what Malfoy and his lackeys thought? Definitely not Harry. Most certainly not.

For the next two days, Harry and Malfoy were nursed back to health. When Harry was finally released from his hospital bed prison, he couldn't be more excited to run as far as he could from Malfoy. And with no word from the ministry, the next two days were to be focused solely on planning for the Slytherin vs Gyffindor match.

Or at least, that’s what they were supposed to focus on.

Harry had his head in his hands. “They throw a party after every game, did you know that?” He frowned. “Am I really that self-absorbed that I never heard of one of these parties?”

Ron rubbed his back. “They’ve never invited me either, mate. What a bunch of arseholes.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “They’re not that fun anyway. Not for a Gryffindor, at least. I hardly knew anyone there.”

“What?!” Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. “They invited you?!”

“Neville and I always get invited.” Ginny said with such nonchalance that Harry nearly barfed. “He makes the best drinks you know-”

Katie Bell, the team’s chaser, butted in. “Guys, what has this got to do with Quidditch? The game is tomorrow and we’ve got absolutely no new strategies. We can’t lose to Slytherin, especially not during the first game after the war.”

Harry felt embarrassed that he had been acting so childish over it. “You’re right.”

Quickly the team got back to planning. Ron had a few new ideas, along with Ginny who suggested different hand gestures to correspond with different formations. After their meeting, Harry felt a lot more confident in their ability to win. Although, he truly felt like they were going to win regardless. They just had to. Gryffindor always wins.

The next day, Harry was feeling back to normal. He had tried to let the incident in the forest go as best as he could. The thing about the parties still bothered him, but he wasn’t going to linger on that anymore. He knew that his focus had to be completely and totally on the game. If the Snitch showed itself, he would be the one to catch it and win the game for the team, there was no doubt about that in his mind.

He changed into his uniform in the locker rooms and began to wipe down his broom. He then put powder on the wooden part to help him grip it better. He and Ron were chatting up a storm. They had really needed something like quidditch to help them get back to the way things were before the war.

After what felt like an eternity of excitement and nerves, it was time for the game to start. The members of the Gryffindor team ran out of the locker rooms one by one, Ron and Harry being the last two to leave. The crowd went wild, students in all red jumping out of their seats to cheer them on. Harry smiled and waved at all his friends. The feeling was exhilarating.

Then, Slytherin came out. One by one, until Malfoy. He was in full health, dressed in his green uniform which was pressed and ironed to perfection. He held up his broom as he jogged onto the field, and Harry could almost hear a slew of Slytherin girls faint as he gave the crowd a smirk instead of a smile. Harry was going to make him eat that smirk.

The referee, the captain of Hufflepuff’s team, released the Quaffle. “Brooms up!”

Without hesitation, both teams shot into the sky. Harry scanned the arena constantly, looking for the Golden Snitch. He ignored Malfoy. Gawking at him wasn’t going to help him catch it. He couldn’t help noticing the girls going crazy at his every move, though. What a jerk.

The Snitch appeared around twenty minutes into the game. It soared up into the sky from outside of the stadium and above the stands. Harry shot after it, quicker than a bullet. Malfoy was hot on his trail.

The Snitch was acting erratic. Well, more so than usual. It seemed intent on getting the seekers as close to the crowd as possible, dangerously close. It appeared to be fighting itself, shaking and rapidly changing directions, pulling itself in different directions. It flew under the stands, ripping a hole in one of the banners hanging below the announcer’s booth.

Harry didn’t hesitate. He shot underneath the stands and through the fabric, tearing an even larger hole. He chased after the Snitch, carefully dodging the wooden support beams carrying the weight of the whole school. He was gaining on the Snitch. He could feel Malfoy practically breathing down his neck. He wasn’t shaken. Harry reached out to grab the Snitch.

He outstretched his hand as far as it could go. His fingertips could practically feel the cool metal of the Snitch. Its little wings beat so fast. Harry knew he had won, he was so close. Malfoy’s hand was only a hair away, but in a chase this fast a hair’s difference was all it took to separate victory from loss.

Only, Harry wouldn’t be able to catch the Snitch. His broom began to shift around uncontrollably. It was encased in burgundy magic. It was ripped from underneath him. Harry tumbled to the ground, hitting the wooden beams on his way down.

Harry’s body stung all over. He was in shock from such a devastating fall. He lifted his head. What happened? Had Malfoy cheated and shot him out of the sky?

Harry lifted his head up from the grass. It was so dark under the stands. The mud and soft grass hadn’t done much to cushion his fall. Had he fainted?

Two black figures approached Harry in the darkness. He could still hear the Quidditch match roaring outside. He tried to scoot away from them, dragging his forearms through the mud. It was no use.

He heard a muffled yell. They had already captured Malfoy. He was bound, two other men restraining him and covering his mouth. Malfoy fought his way out of their grasp. He bit one of their hands, which gave him just a moment to yell.

“They took control of the snitch- it was a trap!” His mouth was covered again.

In one fell swoop, they were both put under a sleeping spell and captured. What had they gotten themselves into this time?

Chapter Text

Once again, Harry found himself strapped to a chair beside Malfoy. They were more scuffed up than last time, somehow. Their uniforms were torn, slightly bloodied, and covered in dirt. Harry thought that at that moment, their uniforms almost looked the same. It made him realize that he and Malfoy were unfortunately in this together.

They were in a large office. Very high class, glossy dark wooden desks, shelves, and elegant picture frames. There were paintings on the wall of noble people, who all seemed to be lost in thought. They couldn’t care less about the presence of the two boys.

“Malfoy.” Harry stared at Malfoy, whose head was thrown back in a deep sleep. “Malfoy!”

He didn’t budge. Harry used a wandless spell to send a short spark over towards Malfoy. It zapped him in his upper leg. He jolted awake. The first thing he did was scream. He screamed as though he was continuing the scream from earlier, when he was originally captured and swiftly knocked unconscious.

“Potter!” He gasped. “Where are we?”

Harry looked around. “I can’t imagine an office like this being anywhere but the ministry. It looks like they didn’t buy the story we told McGonagall.”

Malfoy shook his head. “So we’ve been kidnapped. Fantastic. My mother will be delighted to hear this.”

The door slid open. Harry would have loved to turn around to see who entered but his restraints prevented it.

“I’m so glad you boys could make it.” The voice took its sweet time pacing around the room.

When he finally made it into Harry’s line of sight, Harry realized that it was none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt, a respected Auror and the current Minister for Magic. “Mr Shacklebolt!” Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness it’s you! There seems to have been some kind of mix-up.”

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a good and fair man. He was a key component in winning the war. Harry looked up to him quite a bit for his role as an Auror, and a good one at that.

He looked different now, though. He exchanged his normal colorful robes for black ones and got rid of the matching hat he usually wore. His typically warm and dark skin was now lighter and cooler, almost gray. He wore a pair of black sunglasses that completely hid his eyes.

Malfoy noticed quicker than Harry that something wasn’t right. “Minister, are you well?”

Shacklebolt let out a deep chuckle. “Better than ever.” He smiled at them. His teeth were white. Too white. It was unsettling. Harry shifted in his seat. “Do you boys know why you’re here?”

“…Malfoy’s fault?” “Potter’s fault.” They would never change.

Shacklebolt continued his deep chuckle. It was a warm laugh that somehow still managed to send shivers down Harry’s spine. “You boys are too much.” He stopped laughing. “Both of you are at fault."

Harry and Malfoy exchanged concerned glances.

“Let’s try this again. Why are you two here?”

They silently agreed that they would play dumb.

“Word got out about Slytherin’s party, didn’t it?” Malfoy began. He feigned disappointment. “You’re right, Minister. I’ll be sure to cancel the party as soon as I get back to Hogwarts. Terribly irresponsible of me to orchestrate such a thing, I know."

The Minister looked straight forward. Harry shifted nervously. “Is it because the potion I made in Slughorn’s class melted a hole in the floor? I’ll fix it myself. No need for the ministry to get involved, I’m really handy, you know-”

The Minister waved his hand, as if to silence them. “You two went into the Forbidden Forest.”

Malfoy and Harry faked some “OHH!”s. “I had nearly forgotten about that. Wow, that was a long time ago, that was.” Malfoy smiled. “It’s been- what? Two weeks since then?”

Before Harry could agree with Malfoy and stall for longer, Shacklebolt interrupted. “Three days ago. You both snuck into the Forbidden Forest. I would appreciate it if we could stop beating around the bush. It merely wastes time, lying to each other.” His voice was cool, calm, and collected. “You’ll tell me what you saw in the forest. That, or I’ll pull it out of you myself.”

Clearly they weren’t fooling anyone. Malfoy and Harry couldn’t catch a break.

“What does it matter?” Malfoy spat. “Are you going to tell my mother on me or something?”

He spoke like someone who had nothing to lose. Shacklebolt didn’t appreciate that. “Let’s just say we were testing some new… equipment. It’s not meant to be seen by anyone, especially the likes of you two. Since it seems you’re not going to own up to what you saw yourselves. I’ll just have someone come in here and wipe your memories completely. It’s all the same to me.”

Shacklebolt left the room, sharp boots clacking against the floor coldly as he did.

Hours went by. They just sat in their misery, waiting to be put out of it. “So we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.” Harry frowned.

“Don’t give up on me yet, Potter.” Malfoy wiggled in his restraints. “This isn’t over till it’s over.”

“It feels pretty over to me, Malfoy.”

There was a gentle knock at the door. “Minister Shacklebolt?” A soft voice said. “We had an appointment?”

After a short whispering-yelling argument, Harry managed his best Shacklebolt impression. “Ah, yes. Come on in.”

A woman in a large poofy wedding dress entered the room, followed by a blushing groom. They couldn't be older than twenty. It wasn’t uncommon for people to get married that young after the war. It seemed like everyone realized that waiting could cost them everything. Harry thought about Fred and George. The bride gasped.

“Harry Potter! Is that really you! What are you doing here?” She squeaked out. “Oh, Thomas, we have to help them!”

The bride and her groom began to untie Harry and Malfoy. It turned out that Shacklebolt had promised to marry them that evening. Harry couldn’t understand how the jolly and wise man that was Shacklebolt, who would marry young couples for free despite his extreme workload, could turn so cold overnight. They thanked the couple and went to leave the office. Then it hit them. They would stick out like sore thumbs if they just wandered out of the Minister’s office, covered in blood and still in their Quidditch uniforms.

Harry pulled Malfoy aside. “We’re going to have to get married.”

Malfoy nearly slapped him. “What are you blabbering about? We’ll just run to the nearest fireplace and floo out of here.”

“Oh yeah, because the Ministry that just kidnapped us and strapped us to chairs like criminals is going to let us walk out of here!” Harry huffed. “Sometimes I think you’re the dumb one!”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Right, and you’re the tall one.”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

They whispered and argued more in their corner. Soon the bride let out an exasperated cry. “You’re scaring me! What’s happening? Are we in danger?”

Harry put on his savior face and slapped his hand over Malfoy’s mouth. “Not at all, Ma’am. I just have a bit of a favor to ask.”

---

Harry and Malfoy shuffled out of the office. Malfoy looked like a real bride in his new dress. Harry had charmed a mustache onto himself, something he learned as a party trick. It went well with his new suit. They walked arm in arm, Malfoy stumbling in the little high heels that he had to cram himself into. They waltzed through the ministry, getting gawked at by members and citizens alike.

A few people congratulated them as they walked by. Malfoy would smile at them and then punch Harry in his ribs when they weren’t looking. They almost made it to the fireplace when they were stopped.

“Would the happy couple like a photo to remember this special day?” A photographer asked, grinning ear to ear at them.

“That’s okay, thank you, though.” Harry smiled and tried to continue dragging his monstrously tall wife away.

“I insist! It’ll be on me. I’ve never seen a woman with such long, elegant arms!” The photographer held up his camera. “Truly a beautiful couple.”

“The wife is a bit tired, is all. A lot of excitement today.” Harry smiled awkwardly. He looked at the photographer, who didn’t seem to understand that meant no. “I suppose one quick photo couldn’t hurt.”

Harry and Malfoy smiled for the photo. “No, no! Let’s see a kiss from the newlyweds!”

Malfoy stomped on Harry’s foot so hard that Harry was sure it was broken, if not completely severed in half. “She doesn’t believe in kissing. Just take the picture.” He squeaked out, trying to hide the severe pain he had just had inflicted on him.

The camera flashed. Then, the lights in the ministry began to strobe red. A booming voice resounded throughout the entire building. “Hello, this is your Minister speaking. There are two fugitives running lose among you. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.” Their likeness was captured on two large banners, which rolled out from the ceiling. They were bloodied in the photos and still in their Quidditch uniforms. Had Shacklebolt prepared that while they were still in the office? They stared straight out, looking angry. Their names were blown up in huge letters underneath the incriminating moving portraits. "They are to be captured at once."

Harry quickly grabbed the photograph from the photographer and bolted over to the fireplace, arm in arm with his hideous, and now, wanted criminal for a wife.
Harry snatched a handful of floo powder out of someone else’s hand and threw it into the fire. He said the first place he could think of. “London!”

Chapter Text

So, that sums up the story of how Harry Potter found himself wandering the streets of London side by side with Draco Malfoy in drag. They were cold, a bit lost, and without their wands. Harry felt as if they’d be better off naked in the Sahara desert. At least then they could drink out of a cactus or something.

Malfoy was in a fit of rage so intense that he could hardly speak. Only the occasional sputtering in disbelief at the situation. Harry had to be the one to break the silence.

“You think the Minister has got tuberculosis or something?”

Malfoy narrowed his icy eyes. “Are you stupid? Genuinely?”

Harry hated how much he had been asked that question in the past couple of days. “Well what do you think is wrong with him?! Since you’re the expert on everything, apparently!”

“He’s probably under a spell, you fool!”

‘Fool’ was new. Has Harry reached a new low? Or was the dress getting to Malfoy’s head? They continued wandering the streets. It was dark. The streetlights had come on, making the city glow amber.

They stumbled upon a motel. Then they stumbled right on past it. Malfoy kept his eye on it for a long moment, probably waiting for Harry to explain what it was. Harry could only imagine what Malfoy would say if he tried to make them stay in a place like that. ‘What is this hovel? Why, I never! The box my house elf sleeps in is nicer than this! My name is Draco Malfoy, I think I’m so cool and posh!’ Ugh. Harry could throw up just thinking about it.

Malfoy had a decent amount of questions about the muggle world. It only occurred to Harry that Malfoy had never seen it after they had got there. Neon lights deeply disturbed Malfoy in a way he couldn’t explain.

Harry didn’t have a plan on where to go. He wasn’t even sure why he chose to go to London. He also didn’t have any money on him considering he was quite literally snatched out of the sky. He could sell Malfoy if he really tried. He doubted he’d sell for much with muggles, though.

Just as Harry was thinking about the pros and cons of selling Malfoy, two young women approached them. They were squealing and jumping around- they were probably drunk. They clamored around Malfoy.

“Celeste! Celeste, can we please have an autograph?” One of them giggled, digging around her purse for a a pen and paper.

“No, no, you must have me mistaken-” Malfoy looked around, desperately trying to find who the hell the young women thought they were talking to.

“We’re your biggest fans! I literally keep a photo of you in my wallet!” The other one was swaying as she pulled out her wallet. She unfolded the photo, a clipping from a fashion magazine.

‘Celeste’ was a tall, skinny woman. She had platinum blonde hair, wore an extravagant feathered dress, and had a cold look in her eye. Harry rapidly looked at the photo, then at Malfoy, then at the photo. To a drunk girl, they were identical.

Harry got an idea. “Keep it down, ladies.” He put on his best bodyguard voice. “We wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Oh my god, are you her bodyguard?! This is, like, the best day of my life!”

Malfoy attempted to chop Harry’s other foot in half with his high heel, which Harry narrowly avoided. “We love meeting fans. It doesn’t happen too often…”

The girls looked confused. “What do you mean? You have meet and greets all the time!”

Harry was trying to gauge how famous ‘Celeste’ was. “What I meant was, we don’t meet beautiful fans like you two all that much! Although, we’re very lost. Our tour bus broke down.”

“That’s awful!” One of the girls practically wept. “They’re playing your songs in that club over there, maybe they can help you!”

Harry’s biggest and brightest idea was flashing in his mind. He grabbed Malfoy’s hand and pulled him towards the club. It seemed Malfoy could pick up some of Harry’s plan just by the smile on his face.

“Potter, I will kill you.” He wasn’t threatening, he was promising.

“Just trust me.”

“Says the wanted criminal.” Malfoy pulled and fought but it was no use.

“You’re more wanted than I am.” Harry said. “The people love Celeste.”

When they entered the night club, it was incredibly dark. That was perfect. Less likely they’d notice that Malfoy is a man, an incredibly angry one at that. Harry approached the bartender, who was drowning in the high volume of customers.

“Excuse me, sir? Where is the owner of this establishment?” Harry had to shout over the music. It was so loud he could feel the bass vibrating in his lungs.

“That would be me-” The bartender finally looked over. “Is that-?”

“She’ll sing for you tonight. For 200 pounds.” Harry asserted.

The bartender was astounded. “Why would Celeste want to perform in a place like this?”

“She likes to live on the edge. Do we have a deal?”

Harry swiftly collected his 200 pounds. The bartender smiled as he pulled out a microphone from under the bar. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a celebrity with us tonight. Will everyone give a warm welcome to Celeste?” The lights on the ceiling shifted over to the bar, aiming at Harry and Malfoy.

Harry tightened his grip on Malfoy’s hand to stop him from running away.

“The stage is back there. You might want to freshen up first.” The bartender continued cleaning his glasses and serving drinks.

Harry kept the distance between Malfoy and the other patrons of the club. They got to the small stage in the back of the club. Malfoy yanked Harry behind a small black curtain.

“Potter, you have absolutely lost your mind.” Malfoy was completely bewildered. “I don’t know any of ‘Celeste's songs. Damn it, I barely know muggle music at all! And once those lights come on there’s no hiding that I'm not a woman. We need to leave now before we get killed.”

“You’ll be fine. These people are drunk. They just want a good show. Sing one song and we’ll be out of here.”

Malfoy looked shocked. “You’re really being serious about this?!”

“Do you want to sleep under a bridge tonight?! And tomorrow?! And the day after?!” Harry snapped. “Get up there and sing, pretty boy. There’s a microphone on the stage. Do you know what that is?”

“No.” Malfoy cried.

“You’ll figure it out. Just sing one song, any song. You’ve got this.” Harry insisted, pushing Malfoy towards the stage.

“I can’t do it, Potter. I can’t.”

“I’ll owe you one. A huge one. The biggest one.” Harry ran on stage, dragging Malfoy with him, since pushing wasn’t working.

The stage itself was pitifully small. Hardly big enough to fit the lone guitarist who sat on it. There was a small microphone stand at the front of it, and wires draped down from it and onto the crowded floor. Harry stood, facing the mass of people crammed into the small club. The stage was less than a meter off of the ground. He spoke into the microphone.

“Celeste will be singing a song for you all tonight. Ignore her voice sounding… different. She’s come down with a terrible cold.” Harry thought about just how different Malfoy would sound. He figured he better cover all his bases. “She was also run over. By a car. So have pity on her voice as she is still recovering.” The crowd awkwardly stared back at him. “Alright, let’s give it up for Celeste!”

Malfoy shuffled up to the microphone. The crowd gasped when the lights hit him. Malfoy’s hands were shaking as he reached up to hold the microphone. “Hello-” The microphone shrieked with feedback. Malfoy jumped a bit. He then regained his composure.

The crowd went wild and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Malfoy looked down at Harry, who had found a spot in the crowd right in front of the stage. He gave Malfoy a thumbs up.

“I’ll be singing… my favorite song.” Malfoy was acting as though ‘Celeste’ was being held at gunpoint. He whispered the name of the song in the ear of the guitarist. The man, who was barely identifiable thanks to the long mousy brown hair covering his eyes, made an odd face before he began to play, clearly confused by the song choice.

Malfoy began to sing. Harry thought he was going to pee from laughing so hard. The crowd was bewildered.

Of all songs, Malfoy chose to sing a country song. A song Harry had never heard before. A song no one in the club had heard before, as it would seem/

“Well, life on the farm is kinda laid back
Ain't much an old country boy like me can't hack
It's early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country boy”

The crowd murmured, clearly confused. Harry started to clap along with the beat of the song. It slowly caught on.

“Well, I got me a fine wife, I got me old fiddle
When the sun's comin' up, I got cakes on the griddle
Life ain't nothin' but a funny, funny riddle
Thank God I'm a country boy”

The speed was starting to pick up. Malfoy was starting to shake his nerves. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Ron. Ron would probably be on his back crying if he saw something as funny as this. Harry thought about Fred and George. They’d never let Malfoy live it down.

“When the work's all done and the sun's settin' low
I pull out my fiddle and I rosin up the bow
Kids are asleep so I keep it kinda low
And thank God I'm a country boy”

The crowd began to enjoy the song. It was a far cry from the music that had been playing when they walked in, but they didn’t seem to care. They were stomping and clapping. Even the guitarist was starting to feel it.

“Well, I got me a fine wife, I got me old fiddle
When the sun's comin' up, I got cakes on the griddle
Life ain't nothin' but a funny, funny riddle
Thank God I'm a country boy, woohoo!”

Malfoy had the crowd in the palm of his hands. They had even started joining in when he sang “Thank God I’m a country boy.” Harry had never seen such a thing. Harry had never seen Malfoy having so much fun. Harry wondered how much more there was to Malfoy that he hadn’t seen.

“My daddy taught me young how to hunt and how to whittle
Taught me how to work and play a tune on the fiddle
Taught me how to love and how to give just a little”

Malfoy held that last note.

“And thank God I'm a country boy!”

Everyone danced, including Malfoy, during his break from singing. All except for Harry. At that moment, Malfoy had somehow taken Harry’s breath away. Harry tried to explain it. Maybe it was the dress? Had the alcohol in the air somehow made him drunk? Was it because it was dark? Only, it wasn’t the dress. Malfoy was a hideous woman. It wasn’t liquor, as Harry was stone cold sober, more so than he had ever been. It wasn’t the darkness, because something about the way the light shone in Malfoy’s eyes made Harry’s heart skip a beat. If only for a moment.

Harry couldn’t understand why he felt like that. His stomach was flipping around inside him.

“Well, I got me a fine wife, I got me old fiddle
When the sun's comin' up, I got cakes on the griddle
Life ain't nothin' but a funny, funny riddle
Whew! Thank God I'm a country boy, yeah!”

Suddenly, Malfoy had finished singing his ridiculous song. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter. Malfoy was smiling, a stunned smile.

Malfoy got off the stage, being careful to not trip over his large wedding dress. He made his way over to Harry, still retaining that authentic smile.

Harry wondered why he hadn’t seen it all that much before. Then, he wondered why he even wanted to see it at all.

Then Harry had a spell shot directly at his head, getting so close that it singed his hair.