The library was quieter than usual.
Hermione's fingers trailed across the spines of books like she was greeting old friends. Ron slumped in a chair nearby, trying not to fall asleep on his textbook. Harry, meanwhile, sat at the far end of the table, pretending to read—but he was watching Draco.
Draco Malfoy had wandered in ten minutes ago, alone. No Crabbe, no Goyle, no dramatic entrances. He hadn't even noticed the trio at first, and when he did, his eyes only flicked to Harry once—expression unreadable—before settling across the room with a book of his own.
Except he wasn't reading either.
"You've been on the same page for fifteen minutes," Hermione whispered, nudging Harry with her elbow.
"Maybe I'm just a really slow reader," Harry muttered back, though he quickly turned the page with a guilty flick.
Hermione squinted suspiciously. "You're staring at him again."
"I am not."
"You are."
"Fine," he whispered, "maybe I am. He's just… been weird lately."
Ron snorted softly. "When's he not weird?"
"No, I mean—different. He hasn't insulted me in two days. He didn't even throw a curse at me in Potions."
"Maybe he's maturing," Hermione offered hopefully.
"Or planning something," Ron muttered.
But Harry shook his head. It didn't feel like a plan. It felt like a puzzle. Draco still walked with that same swagger, but there was a stiffness to it lately. Like he was holding something back. Or waiting for something.
From across the room, Draco shifted. Their eyes met briefly—too briefly—and then Draco looked away, face unreadable.
Harry turned back to his book.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched too.
---
Later that afternoon, Snape swept into the Defense classroom with a billow of his robes and a grim expression. The students immediately fell silent. He stopped at the front of the room and folded his arms.
"Today, we continue with shielding spells," he said without preamble. "If your wandwork is even half as dreadful as it was last week, I recommend you say your goodbyes to your limbs now."
The class chuckled nervously.
Harry expected the usual routine—Snape pairing him with someone annoying or unfair—but instead, something strange happened.
"Potter," Snape said, eyes cool and unreadable. "You will pair with Malfoy."
There was a long pause.
"What?" Ron hissed under his breath.
Even Draco looked mildly surprised. He glanced at Harry, then back to Snape, who returned the gaze as if daring him to object.
Neither did.
They stood. Wands drawn. Across from each other.
Harry took his stance.
Draco mirrored him.
Snape folded his arms, eyes sharp. "Begin."
Harry braced for the worst, but instead of hurling a hex, Draco raised his wand and said clearly, "Protego."
A faint shimmer of a shield appeared before him.
Harry blinked. "You're… not attacking?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "It's called practice, Potter. Try it sometime."
So Harry cast the spell too.
And again.
And again.
They went back and forth, neither aiming to hit, both adjusting their wand movement, flicking and correcting. Snape moved among the pairs, scowling at some, correcting others. But he never said a word to Harry and Draco.
Eventually, as Snape paused nearby, Draco lowered his wand slightly and muttered under his breath, "You've improved."
Harry looked up. "What?"
Draco didn't look at him. "Your shield. It's cleaner. Less shaky."
"Oh. Uh… thanks."
"Don't get used to the compliment."
Snape moved closer, fixing them both with his usual glare, but said nothing. He watched their exchange like he was waiting for something. Then, just as quickly, he turned away.
---
That evening, Harry found himself lingering outside the empty classroom after dinner.
Snape was inside, alone. He hadn't noticed Harry yet. He stood near the front, rearranging potion bottles into some precise pattern only he understood. His shoulders looked tired.
Harry hesitated, then knocked.
Snape didn't turn around. "Enter, Potter."
Harry stepped inside.
"Did you… mean to pair me with Malfoy today?"
Snape's hand paused mid-reach. Then he slowly lowered the bottle and turned.
"I do nothing without intention."
Harry waited for more, but Snape only studied him for a moment.
"Malfoy is capable," he said at last. "And you are stubborn. Together, perhaps, there is a lesson to be learned."
Harry squinted. "A lesson in… what? Working together?"
"Perspective."
Snape stepped closer, folding his arms.
"You believe your rival is your enemy. But what if he's not? What if he's just another boy… trapped in the same web as you?"
Harry didn't answer right away.
"You sound like you know something," he finally said.
"I know many things," Snape replied. "Most of them unpleasant."
Harry looked down at his shoes. "He hasn't been the same. He's… I don't know. He's acting weird."
"People change."
"Do they?"
Snape arched a brow. "You did."
Harry looked up, surprised.
Snape turned away and returned to his bottles. "That will be all, Potter."
And though Harry wanted to stay and ask more—about Draco, about himself, about whatever it was Snape wasn't saying—he nodded and quietly slipped out.
---
Later that night, as rain pattered softly against the castle windows, Draco stood alone in the Astronomy Tower, leaning on the stone wall with his arms crossed. The wind tousled his hair. His face was unreadable again.
Behind him, a soft voice broke the silence.
"You forgot your cloak."
Draco turned.
Harry stood in the doorway, holding out the familiar green and black fabric.
Draco blinked. "You… followed me?"
Harry shrugged. "You left it behind. I figured…"
"Thanks," Draco muttered, taking it. He draped it over his shoulder but didn't leave. Instead, he leaned back against the wall again.
Harry didn't leave either.
They stood there a moment, side by side, both staring at the sky.
"Do you ever wonder what it's all for?" Draco asked suddenly.
Harry turned. "What?"
"All this. Magic. School. Family. Bloodlines. Expectations." His voice was quieter now. "Sometimes it feels like none of it makes sense."
Harry was quiet for a long moment. "Yeah," he said. "Sometimes."
Draco looked at him. And for once, there was no smugness, no challenge, no walls.
Just tired honesty.
"I don't think I hate you," he said.
Harry blinked. "Wow. That's… sudden."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."
But Harry smiled.
And for the first time in a long time, they stood in companionable silence.
Not enemies.
Not quite friends.
But maybe… something in between.