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Returning to Hogwarts was a somber affair for the eighth year students.
They watched with watery eyes as the first year students were sorted and when they retired to the cozy common room, created for only the eighth years, they broke out the fire whiskey and had a toast.
“To those we’ve lost.” Harry spoke softly, cup held high. He looked around at the small group of students that had dared to come back. He met each of their haunted eyes, even the Slytherins who he’d insisted participate. When the first years paraded through the Great Hall earlier that day he couldn’t believe he’d ever been so small, that any of them had. Now, hours later, he was enraged. Why had it fallen on them to keep the wizarding world alive? They had only been children.
Harry glanced over his classmates' faces once more and his eyes found Draco’s before saying, “And to making sure the first years that started today never have to do the things we’ve done.”
“To a better future.” Hermione echoed.
They all downed their whiskey and dispersed. Some stayed up late drinking, reminiscing. Others went to bed, only to be woken by the nightmares that returned night after night. Harry went for a walk, roaming the halls until day broke again.
-
The next morning classes started and everything felt so normal. Apart from the passing “I’m always here if anyone needs to talk,” or “you lot have been through so much,” each professor seemed to start their classes off with, the eighth year students could almost pretend they were just normal seventh years, with a very small graduating class.
It wasn’t until Defense Against the Dark Arts that any of them had to face the odd reality of their situation.
They entered the familiar room and the brown skinned man at the front, who they’d all seen at the head table the night before, waved them in excitedly and instructed them to sit wherever they liked.
“Hello, everyone. My name is Amity Shari and I’ll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.” He scanned the room of wide-eyed teenagers before deciding to prattle on. “I’ve been an auror with the ministry for just over nine years, where I led a taskforce that specialized in organized crime. Over the last few years I worked closely with Kingsley Shacklebolt and the rest of the Order to investigate some of the more influential followers of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”
“Voldemort.” Someone interrupted.
“Excuse me?” Professor Shari flinched.
His question was met with nothing but silence until Draco, who’d been fidgeting intently with the quill on his desk, cleared his throat and repeated. “His name was Voldemort.”
The room tensed, everyone’s hands instinctively reaching for their wands, heads whipping around to the back corner where the few Slytherin students were sitting.
What’s he playing at? Hermione’s pinched brow seemed to say. While Harry seemed to take it in stride, returning his attention to their new teacher and leaning back in his chair. A look Harry had mastered since the end of the war crossed his face, careful aloofness and utter relaxation in the hopes that everyone else would follow his lead.
“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, Professor.” Harry smirked, flicking his eyes to Hermione and earning a playful eye roll.
“Yes, right. Of course, that’s very wise.” Shari babbled nervously as tension in the room slowly began to thaw.
“Or very stupid.” Ron muttered under his breath.
Shari cleared his throat and gathered himself quickly. “Well all this to say, I’m not blind to the fact that you all have practical, real life experience using the skills you’ve learned in this class. You’re all pros at this point, I won’t deny that. Because of that, I’d like to spend the next week assessing your skills, from there I’ll decide where our focus will be this year.”
Deafening silence left the room humming. Shari flicked his wand and small pieces of paper flew to each desk, landing face down in front of every student. “The paper in front of you has a number on it that corresponds with another student in this room. They’re your partner for this course going forward, be sure to sit together. Your compatibility was calculated carefully based on a number of factors, they are your perfect dueling partner. Today your task is simple; find your partner and duel. No unforgivables, no serious injuries, and no aiming to kill. Have fun.”
The class erupts in chaos. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned their papers over to see none of them matched and groaned. Everyone was on their feet to check each other's numbers in seconds, and once they stood the chairs and desks cleared to make room for their duels.
Slowly everyone partnered up; Hermione and Pansy, Ron and Neville, Seamus and Dean, Blaise and Knott. Harry looked down at his number and back up to his classmates, he was the last one looking for a partner.
“Potter.” Draco snapped from the back of the room. “Seven?”
Harry let out a sigh and walked through the suddenly quiet crowd until he stood across from Draco.
“Yeah, that’s me.” Harry gave a tight lipped smile. “Probably should’ve guessed it’d be you.”
Draco hummed in response, cautiously glancing at everyone listening and watching from his periferal. “Shall we begin?”
“Suppose so.” Harry raised his wand to his own chest and watched Draco do the same.
“Scared, Potter?” Draco smiled.
“Ha!” Harry barked a laugh. “You wish.”
Their wands swished as they brought them down.
Then it started. The room was alight with each attack and block as their feet carried them in circles around each other.
At first it was loud, they shouted spell after spell with overwhelming force, until instinct took over and neither boy had noticed they were doing wordless magic. The rest of class watched on, equally horrified and eager to see how it ended.
“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Hermione yelled to Shari, who was watching with a sick smirk on his face. “They’ll kill each other!”
Then the castle rumbled. Tearing Hermione's gaze back to the duel where a stomp of Harry’s foot had rippled the ancient stone floor as if it were water, knocking Malfoy to the ground.
Malfoy scrambled onto his knees and smiled. “Really, Potter? That’s how you want to play this.”
“I suppose so.” Harry laughed in return.
The breath of every eighth year student caught in their chest as they watched Draco whip out the hand that wasn’t holding his wand, flinging it forward as if he were throwing a quaffle. Shards of ice appeared from thin air and spiraled towards Harry, who met them with a ribbon of fire that warmed the whole room.
A few students screamed, ducking away from the heat and shuffling backwards.
“Stop this!” Pansy shouted at their professor while the duel continued to digress, technique and skill played no part. Their display of raw power came from years of rage, hatred, and something else unnamable.
“Harry!” Ron shouted into the mess of elements. “Harry stop!” But wind began to roar throughout the room, a barrier between the duel and the rest of the class.
Draco threw punch after punch of raw magic, putting Harry on the defensive, barely able to block the blonde’s rapid attack. In mere minutes they were left standing less than an armed length from each other with the tip of Draco’s wand resting at Harry’s throat.
“I suppose our training this summer paid off.” Harry cocked his head and smiled.
Draco hummed, his eyes sparkling. “I know when you’re letting me win, Potter. You let me get a few shots in at the end there.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I thought it might be time to wrap it up.”
“And here I thought you could go for hours.” Draco smirked, pushing the tip of his wand into the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck.
“We were scaring our peers, dear.” Harry chucked in return.
Draco hummed again. He’d completely forgotten they had an audience. Through the wind still whipping around them, drowning out their voices from the rest of the room, Draco noticed Pansy’s wide eyed stare and Weasley and Granger both clutched at their chests, clearly panicking over Harry’s safety.
“Kiss me.” Draco whispered, stepping closer but not dropping his wand.
Harry swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. A familiar heat ran through him, this is where most of their dueling practices ended. They started with a need to expel some energy and built up magic in a way no one else could ever understand. But once they were done, chests heaving from exertion, they’d fill another kind of need.
“You’ve got a wand to my throat, love.” Harry whispered in return.
“And?” Draco’s hand clenched around his wand.
Harry smiled as he stepped in closer, crashing their mouths together. Draco’s grip on his wand softened, he uncurled a few fingers and slipped them back to run through Harry’s infuriatingly messy hair.
The kiss ended quickly after a horrified, “What?!” Was bellowed through the dying wind.
“Weasley.” Draco huffed, dropping his forehead to Harry’s shoulder.
Harry took one look across the still room and let his hands, which had found their way to Draco’s waist at some point, curl around Draco’s back, tucking him further into his chest and neck. Hiding Draco from the prying eyes of their classmates.
But before Harry could say anything by way of explanation a booming clap had everyone’s attention flitting to their new Professor. “Alright everyone, back to work! Grab your partners, you have quite the display of power to live up to.” Shari waved off the crowd.
Draco removed his red face from the safety of Harry’s body in time to see their Professor approaching them. The couple had the decency to separate, but remained tightly joined at their hands, Harry’s fingers rubbing soothing circles over Draco’s knuckles.
“I worked with the ministry and Hogwarts' own records to match dueling partners. I looked at grades and skill level, but also where your raw power was charted at age 11.” Shari rubbed the back of his neck and whistled. “I knew your duel would be spectacular, but that was really something.”
Harry and Draco remained quiet. The noise of their peers starting their own duels echoed throughout the room.
“Look I‘ll be honest with you both, I don’t think I have much to teach you. You’re both extremely skilled and your power greatly exceeds my own. I have a friend who’s much more suited to training wizards of your caliber for combat and is willing to work with you both a few times a month. What do you think?”
The pair didn’t even look at each other before Harry responded confidently. “Thank you for the offer, but I think we’re alright. The dueling is just a bit of fun really.” Harry shrugged.
“Yes, of course. Although I must say if you plan to become an auror then it would be prudent to continue your training, Mr. Potter. And you, Mr. Malfoy, I know with your past options may be limited to you, but I can put in a good word with Minister Shacklebolt. The ministry would love to have wizards of your excellent power.” Shari spoke enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe.
Draco’s jaw ticked. “Professor Shari, I believe I speak for both of us when I say we’ve seen enough combat to last a lifetime. We have no interest in working for the ministry, at least not in the capacity you’re thinking. Like Harry said, the dueling is just a bit of good fun.”
“But—“ Shari started, looking at Harry in horror.
Draco stepped in front of Harry, just enough to cover his shoulder and to send a clear message.
“He doesn’t owe you anything.” Draco snarled. “He doesn’t owe anyone anything.”
Shari swallowed, his knuckles turning white around his wand. “Yes of course. You’ve all been through quite a lot for your age. I suppose you're both dismissed since you’ve been evaluated already. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave a stiff nod and backed away.
The pair grabbed their personal belongings, carefully avoiding eye contact with the other students. Especially their friends.
Once they had escaped to the empty hall, Draco slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him in closely while they walked to their only safe haven, the room of requirement.
“I don’t like that man.” Draco murmured into Harry’s dark hair.
“As long as he doesn’t try to kill me before the end of the year, he wouldn’t be the worst defense professor we’ve had.” Harry shrugged.
“We’ve talked about this, love. You’ve got to raise your standards just a bit.” Draco laughed. It was a dazzling noise that made the butterflies in Harry’s stomach take flight.
“You kissed me in front of all our friends.” Harry whispered in wonder.
“I think it was you who kissed me actually.” Draco bit back smuggly.
“You asked me to, you brat.” Harry elbowed him.
Draco pulled Harry to a stop and kissed him deeply. “Worth it.” He breathed against Harry’s soft lips.
Harry pushed Draco back and began walking again before anything could escalate in such a public place. “Say that again after our friends get a hold of us.”