Chapter Text
He’s going to do it. It’s already been decided, he’s already ready—maybe he's been ready his whole life.
Draco stands on the ledge of the astronomy tower and, as he looks down, he feels… nothing. There’s nothing for him to feel. It’s cold, he can feel the breeze against his skin, sending a slight chill up his arm to the back of his neck. But that’s it—that’s all there is for him. He’s not scared of the height, he’s never really been one to be frightened of that. He’s not scared of dying either, this he knows like it's a fact.
It’s not like dying is something that’s unexpected, it happens to everyone eventually. Draco always knew it would happen to him sooner in life rather than later. He could never see himself getting old, having wrinkles, grey hairs, and stories of a life well-lived. He can’t even see himself getting old enough to have children or a wife, if he’s honest.
Maybe he’s just destined to die young, maybe he always has been.
And he’s fine with that. Honestly, he is.
Along with that, it's not as if dying is the worst thing that could happen to him. There are a world of worse things Draco can think of—a world of things that could happen to him if he doesn't follow through with what he's been given.
His hands grip onto the railing like he’s scared to fall even when he isn’t, like it’s some sort of reflex he can’t escape. He looks up at the sky for what might be the last time, watching the stars and the crescent moon that's peeking out from behind the clouds.
That’s one thing he’ll miss, maybe the only thing, the sky. It’s weird, but he’s always felt some sort of calm looking up at it. Like everything will be alright because none of the problems in the world could ever be as big as the universe itself.
That’s what almost stops him. Almost. What actually stops him is the hand that grips his wrist, the right one. He can feel it through his jumper, warm and unfamiliar. Draco doesn’t really care to look and see who it is. He’s too focused on the sky in front of him. For a second he even thinks he's imagined it, like he's dreamt up an unlikely scenario where someone would reach out to hold him back.
“Malfoy,” the voice is muffled, like a song playing in the background of a crowded room. And yet, he knows who it is without even having to look back.
“What?” He asks through gritted teeth, not turning around to face him, instead hoping he’ll just get the hint and go away, leaving him alone to die in peace.
“You’re not going to jump, right?”
What a stupid question.
He doesn’t answer it, he doesn’t really know how to answer it. Obviously, he could say, I'll take you down with me if you don’t let me go.
“We should go inside, it’s cold out.”
That is what gets Draco to whip his head around—not the hand on his arm, not the stupid question, but that. And maybe his vision is kind of blurry from the wind or maybe he just can’t think straight, but the person in front of him looks entirely different than he’s ever seen him before.
Potter is standing closer to him than he’d probably like, his hand still gripping Draco’s arm. His glasses are tilted to the side and slipping down the bridge of his nose like he doesn’t care if they fall right off. It almost makes Draco laugh at him, thinking of all of the ways he can make fun of him for how ridiculous he looks.
Almost.
Another thing Draco notices almost immediately is that Potter is in his pajamas. His hair’s messy, which isn’t unusual but it makes Draco wonder if maybe he had been about to go to sleep. Maybe he was even lying in bed, eyes closed and ready for the night, before deciding to come up to the astronomy tower.
It takes a few beats for his senses to kick in, but then he’s pulling his shoulder back in an attempt to get Potter’s grip to let loose. But instead Draco is almost falling backward right off the side of the tower.
That shouldn’t be scary, right? He came up here to do that exact thing so why should it scare him?
But when he thinks he’s about to fall, his heart drops to his feet. Suddenly instead of feeling nothing, he’s feeling everything, shock waves are sent through his entire body, itching at his skin. It’s embarrassing the way he almost cries out. He has to keep his lips closed tightly so he can’t make any noise, not that he’s scared for long.
Potter’s hand is grabbing onto his other wrist, his left, yanking him so he doesn’t fall backwards, causing them both to fall forward onto the ground instead.
“Shit,” he mumbles. His shoulder’s hurt, feeling like it’s just been pulled right out of its socket.
Potter hisses through his teeth, his hand grasping at his elbow.
Draco doesn’t wait another second before he’s scrambling to get up, brushing his pants off and glaring at the boy who’s still sitting on the ground.
“What the fuck?” He spits out, “You didn’t have to rip my bloody arm off, Potter!”
Potter gets up at that, not saying a word, just watching while Draco glares at him.
How boring. At least he could try to fight.
“Why are you even up here anyway? Don’t you know what privacy is?” Draco says seething. He reaches his hand up and slightly rubs at his shoulder, hoping nothing serious had happened to it. If he has to live a while longer he doesn't want to spend it in physical pain.
Potter's eyes leave Draco’s so he can glance back at where he was standing just a few seconds before. He only looks off the edge of the tower for a second and doesn’t even say anything, but it leaves Draco’s face red-hot.
“Just go back to bed and leave me alone.” He turns around and takes a few steps back toward the ledge he was just standing on, deciding to not climb back up until after Potter leaves. He wants to be alone before he dies, not with some idiot watching him fall.
“No,” Potter says and Draco’s hands are closing into fists at his sides, nails digging into skin.
He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move. His teeth are grinding and his jaw is clenched. He's not sure he's ever felt more angry in his life.
He had a simple plan, one he had been going over in his head for months. He had waited until just the right moment, when everything was perfect.
He just looks out at the sky in anger, hoping that if he’s still long enough Potter will get bored and leave him alone. That's his new plan and it seems like a pretty good one. No way would Potter stay up here and keep Draco company, while he stargazes.
But of course, nothing's going to plan.
It feels like forever of looking out into the sky and Potter still hasn't left. In fact, he's taken a seat on a nearby ledge, looking up at the same view Draco is. It almost ruins it for him, filling his mouth with bile at the thought of them sharing the sky.
Maybe that’s Potter’s plan to get him to go inside, just look at the same view as him.
It's even longer before either of them even move from their spots, neither wanting to give up and be the first inside. It’s Draco who can’t take it anymore though, finally deciding it’s a stupid challenge and one he’s not in the mood to participate in any longer.
He doesn’t say a word, just turns around, scoffs at Potter, and leaves to go back to his dormitory feeling utterly unfulfilled. This was supposed to be his last night, he wasn’t supposed to make this walk through the halls again.
But here he is.
He doesn’t hear Potter leaving the astronomy tower behind him or walking through the halls which is a relief. He’s had enough of him for the night—for his life.
His life which was supposed to be over.
But thanks to Potter he’s still breathing, he’s still moving.
He’ll just have to try again tomorrow.
～●～●～●～
When Draco goes back up to the astronomy tower the next day, Potter’s back, but he’s there first this time. He’s sitting down, looking up at the stars, annoyingly at peace.
Draco wants to push him right off the edge. He almost moves to, having to force his feet to stop. Instead he just turns on his heels and decides to give it an hour or two before he comes back, which doesn’t do anything.
Potter is still sitting in the same spot when Draco returns.
He doesn’t look up, Draco thinks he doesn’t even notice he’s there. Would he notice if I jumped right now? He thinks for a moment, honestly debating making a run for it while Potter’s still looking up.
He has an opened book in his lap that doesn’t seem to be getting read at all and Draco briefly scolds him in his head for it before Potter shifts, his eyes looking down and then looking toward him, noticing him for the first time.
His eyebrows pull together into a sort of scowl and, God, Draco hates him. Why is he the one looking angry when Draco was just trying to get some alone time?
“What are you doing back here?” Potter asks, but Draco doesn’t answer, walking over to the same spot he was standing in the night before without a word. “You’re not jumping.” He says and it sounds like a dare, like he wants Draco to do it, like he’s the one pushing him right off the tower.
Honestly, Potter is to blame for this. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be… he’d just be normal. Maybe he’d even be happy.
But no, Potter had to ruin that for him. He had to ruin everything for him.
Draco still doesn’t say anything, he just holds onto the railing and looks up at the stars. There’s a short moment, only a second, where he wonders what Potter might be looking at. If he was looking up at the moon or the stars that surround it.
“You’re good at astronomy, tell me what stars are which.” Potter says and Draco takes one second before he’s looking back at him with disgust, his top lip lifting and his nose wrinkling.
He's not stupid, he knows what Potter is trying to do; he knows he's just trying to taunt him for no good reason.
“You should jump.” Draco says before he turns back around.
Potter doesn’t say anything, his mouth slamming shut.
Everything is quiet for a few moments, the seconds between Draco’s last words and Potter walking forward to grab the railing next to him. It’s uncomfortable in the worst way, almost awkward. It’s the first time ever that neither of them are immediately firing shots at the other.
That is until Draco forces himself to break the silence.
“No one would stop you, you know?” He almost smiles at the thought, “People would probably thank you.”
He imagines it, Potter falling right in front of him, and he grins despite some part in his stomach saying he shouldn’t—the part that always seems to hold him back from who he’s meant to be. Who he is.
He imagines the sort of party the Death Eaters would throw and it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He can see it, the Dark Lord thanking him for not stopping Harry Potter from falling to his death.
That makes him feel almost ill.
“Okay,” is all Potter says and if he doesn’t jump right now, Draco will push him just because of that. He’s tired of Potter and his friends always putting on some sort of brave front, pretending they’re superior just because they aren’t afraid to turn down danger.
If Draco didn’t turn down dangers coming his way, he’d probably end up dead before his seventh year.
He clenches his fists and tries to stay still for a few seconds, knowing that nothing he does will get Potter to actually leave.
It’s another night where he walks back to his room with the knowledge that he’ll just have to keep trying until his body hits the ground.
～●～●～●～
To his surprise, the next time he sees Potter isn’t at the astronomy tower. It’s in class.
The class had just started, Professor Slughorn was already teaching, when two students decided to wander into the class late.
Potter and Weasley.
Maybe Draco should have expected them to be there, of course it’d be his luck. He doesn’t look up at either of them, just staring at the already-brewed potions in front of the class. Neither of them have their books, so they have to scramble to get new ones while Professor Slughorn starts teaching again despite the interruption.
When he asks what the potions in front of them are and Granger is first to answer, Draco zones out almost entirely.
There’s really no need for him to know any of this anymore, is there?
His mind goes back to his plans, figuring out the best time he can go up to the astronomy tower without running into Potter again. Maybe if he goes earlier than he has the past two days he’ll be able to miss him entirely.
He hears the mentions of potion’s names and what they do in the back of his mind as if they’re trying to find a way in, begging him to remember them. Though he knows they aren’t of much use to him, he still listens in every so slightly.
Veritaserum and Polyjuice Potion, both of which he's already heard of, and Amortentia which is a love potion.
The whole class seems to be in a trance as they get closer to the steaming cauldron of Amortentia, trying to smell the contents inside.
Draco just stays where he is, though he can’t help his slight intrigue. However when he sniffs the air from where he’s standing and smells nothing, he's not surprised or disappointed. Of course he doesn’t love anyone, he knows this. He also knows he never will love anyone, he won’t be here long enough to do so.
Along with that, love is honestly the last thing on his list of priorities right now. In a way he’s always put it in the back of his mind anyway. He’s gone on the occasional date with Pansy, if you’d even call those dates, but he’s just never really felt the need to actually go out with anyone for real, or have a girlfriend for that matter.
He looks at the small vial that now has the class's attention. Liquid Luck.
"One tiny bottle and you will be lucky in everything you attempt," Professor Slughorn says as he shows off the bottle to the class.
Draco seems to straighten up at that, his eyes darting to the bottle in the professor's hands. He could really use some luck right now, couldn’t he?
His mind races with all the ways he can sneak into the classroom and steal it, knowing he wouldn't even have to face the consequences if the potion actually works and gives him the luck he needs.
He honestly debates stealing it right from the professor's hands, drinking it, and running up to the Astronomy Tower for one final time.
But then Professor Slughorn says the most beautiful words he's heard in the last few months, "that is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."
Draco could honestly kiss him at those words. All he needs to do is brew a perfect potion and he wins it. Easy.
When the class is allowed to go brew their own potions, Draco races to get it done. He's carefully reading all of the instructions and following them as perfectly as ever. He’s hyper-focused and no one, especially not Potter, will take this potion away from him.
Draco doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more in his life.
Groans start erupting throughout the classroom as the class goes on, people all throughout the class seem to be doing something wrong with the potion, causing visible reactions of their failures.
But Draco’s looks fine so far, nothing bad has happened and there's no way anything will.
He adds the final few ingredients and smiles as he watches Granger’s potion seems to fail her just like almost everyone else's has. It’s almost laughable that she’d be so bad at something this easy. All they have to do is follow what’s written in the book, how hard could this really be?
But as he takes his focus off of his cauldron for those small seconds, disaster seems to strike. The potion begins to leak out the sides and drip out, bubbling like nothing he’s ever seen before. It spills out onto the table and he curses to himself as he instinctively uses his hands to try and scoop the liquid back in. Of course, this isn't the best plan of action, but he doesn't know what else to do.
He only has a few seconds anyway before Slughorn calls for the class to stop their brewing, so he can go around the classroom and pick the winner.
Of course it isn't Draco.
Instead it’s Potter’s potion that wins and Draco’s left with no other choice.
“Potter!” He calls as they all leave class. It takes a few tries of yelling his name before both him and Weasley turn to face him, confused looks painted on both of their faces.
Draco gives Weasley a nasty look in return and watches as the boy puffs out his chest in defense, stepping in front of his friend.
“What, Malfoy?” Potter steps to Weasley’s side, walking closer to Draco.
“What will it take for you to give me the potion?” He asks and hears Weasley snort at the question.
“Why do you need it?” Potter raises an eyebrow and looks him up and down quickly, as if trying to figure out what secrets Draco’s hiding.
“Reasons,” he says with a shrug.
At that, he finally realizes how bad of an idea this was, it's as if he's finally seeing himself from an outside perspective, looking down at himself and shaking his head at what he sees.
Of course Potter would interrogate him before giving up the potion he had just won, how stupid had Draco gotten?
And of course his answer to Potter's question would just be more of a reason for him not to hand the potion over.
Potter and Weasley both look at each other before brushing past Draco without another word. And he’s left standing there in the hallway, hoping he won’t see Potter again at the astronomy tower.