Malfoy tries

The corridors of Hogwarts were draped in the heavy, velvet silence of midnight, broken only by the rhythmic scuff of leather boots against stone. Draco Malfoy leaned against a shadowed alcove near the Gryffindor common room, his fingers twitching around a small glass vial. Inside, a thick, swirling liquid simmered with a muddy consistency.

He hated Harry Potter. It was a visceral, bone-deep resentment that had matured from childhood rivalry into something far more obsessive. It wasn't just the fame or the "Chosen One" nonsense anymore. It was Ginny Weasley.

Draco watched them from across the Great Hall every day. He saw the way Harry’s hand rested protectively on the small of her back, and the way Ginny laughed—a bright, fierce sound that seemed to light up the room. Draco wanted that light. He wanted to be the one she leaned into; he wanted to be the one who earned that fiery devotion. But as long as Potter was in the picture, Draco was nothing but a ghost in the periphery.

"Tonight," Draco whispered to the shadows, his voice raspy with envy.

He pulled a single, dark hair from his pocket—plucked from Potter’s Quidditch robes days prior—and dropped it into the vial. The potion hissed, turning a clear, brilliant gold that mimicked the Gryffindor seeker’s annoying aura. Draco took a deep breath and swallowed the concoction.

The transformation was agonizing. His bones ground together, his skin bubbled, and his vision blurred until he felt his height shift and his hair thicken. When he looked down at his hands, they were calloused and scarred. He pulled a pair of round spectacles from his robe and slid them onto his nose.

He wasn't Draco Malfoy anymore. He was the hero of the Wizarding World.

Navigating the Gryffindor common room was easy enough; the Fat Lady was half-asleep and didn't question the boy with the lightning bolt scar. Draco climbed the stairs toward the girls' dormitories, his heart hammering against his ribs. He knew Harry’s secret. He’d followed them more than once, lurking under his own disillusionment charms, watching Harry slip into Ginny’s room late at night to find comfort in her arms.

He reached Ginny’s door and pushed it open slowly. The room smelled of dried flowers and broomstick wax. Ginny was sitting on her bed, leafing through a Charms textbook by the light of a single candle. When she saw him, her face transformed. The weariness vanished, replaced by a radiant, welcoming smile.

"Harry," she breathed, tossing the book aside. "I didn't think you’d make it tonight. Ron was being particularly observant at dinner."

Draco felt a surge of triumph so sharp it almost made him gag. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I couldn't stay away," he said, his voice a perfect imitation of Harry’s earnest, slightly clumsy tone.

Ginny stood up and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around his neck. Draco froze for a split second before his instincts took over. He pulled her close, marveling at the warmth of her. This was what he had been craving. This was the prize.

"You seem tense," Ginny whispered, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Is it the dreams again? Or is Malfoy still getting under your skin?"

Draco’s jaw tightened at the mention of his own name. "It’s not Malfoy. It’s... us, Ginny."

She frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

This was the moment. Draco had spent weeks rehearsing the words that would shatter the foundation of their relationship. He needed to make her doubt the one thing she held most dear: Harry’s unwavering loyalty.

"I’ve been thinking," Draco said, looking away as if pained. "About the war. About what I have to do. I realized that I’ve been using you, Ginny. You’re a distraction from the darkness, but you aren't... you aren't who I really want when the lights go out."

Ginny went still. Her arms dropped from his shoulders as if his skin had suddenly turned to ice. "Harry, what are you talking about? You love me. You told me just yesterday that I was the only thing keeping you sane."

"I lied," Draco said, his voice cold and flat. He turned to face her, injecting a cruel glint into Harry’s green eyes. "I needed someone to make me feel normal. But look at you. You’re just a Weasley. You’re loud, you’re temperamental, and frankly, I’m tired of the burden of your family. I deserve someone who matches my status. Someone like... well, someone who isn't you."

The silence that followed was deafening. He watched as the light in Ginny’s eyes didn't just dim—it extinguished. Her face went pale, then flushed a deep, angry red.

"You’re joking," she said, her voice trembling. "This is some kind of sick prank. Is this Fred and George? Did they put you up to this?"

"It’s no joke," Draco sneered. "I’m moving on, Ginny. Don't follow me, and don't try to talk to me in the halls. It’s over."

He turned on his heel and walked out, his heart racing with a mixture of terror and exhilaration. He heard a muffled sob behind him, but he didn't look back. He hurried down the stairs, through the common room, and slipped out into the corridor just as the potion began to wear off.

By the time he reached the safety of the dungeons, his hair had returned to its pale blonde and his features had sharpened back into his own. He leaned against the damp stone wall, gasping for air, a manic grin spreading across his face. He had done it. He had killed the Great Harry Potter in her eyes.

***

The next morning, the Great Hall was buzzing with the usual breakfast chaos, but for Harry, the world felt inexplicably heavy. He hadn't seen Ginny that morning. Usually, she waited for him by the portrait hole, but she had been gone by the time he woke up.

He spotted her at the end of the Gryffindor table, her head down, picking at a piece of dry toast. Harry hurried over, sliding onto the bench beside her.

"Morning, Gin," he said, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. "You left early. Is everything okay?"

Ginny flinched away from his touch as if he’d tried to burn her. She looked up, and Harry was shocked to see her eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

"Don't," she snapped, her voice low and dangerous.

Harry blinked, his hand hovering in mid-air. "Don't what? Ginny, what’s wrong? Did something happen?"

"You happened," she said, her voice cracking. She stood up abruptly, grabbing her bag. "I can't believe you even have the nerve to sit next to me after what you said last night. I thought you were brave, Harry. But you’re just a coward who waits until dark to show his true colors."

She turned and sprinted out of the hall before Harry could utter a single word. The entire table had gone silent, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Ron looked at Harry, his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Blimey, mate. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Harry stood up, his heart sinking into his stomach. "I didn't even see her last night! I fell asleep early in the common room."

"That’s not what she thinks," Hermione said softly, looking concerned. "Harry, she looks devastated."

Harry didn't wait to hear more. He ran after her, his mind racing. He caught up to her in the entrance hall, grabbing her arm gently to slow her down. "Ginny, wait! Please. I don't know what you’re talking about. I wasn't in your room last night. I stayed in the common room with Ron and Neville until eleven, and then I went straight to bed."

Ginny whirled around, her eyes flashing with fire. "Stop lying! You came to my room. You sat on my bed. You told me I was a 'burden.' You told me you were tired of my family and that you wanted someone with more 'status.' You were so cold, Harry. I didn't even recognize you."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "Status? Ginny, I would never say that. You know how I feel about your family. They’re the only real family I’ve ever had. I love you more than anything in this world."

"Then why did you say it?" she screamed, tears finally spilling over. "You looked me in the eye and broke my heart!"

As Harry reached out to pull her into a hug, a shadow moved near the marble staircase. Draco Malfoy was standing there, his arms crossed, a smug, knowing smirk playing on his lips. He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes was one of pure, unadulterated victory.

Harry froze. He looked from Draco’s triumphant face back to Ginny’s tear-streaked one. The pieces began to click into place. The missing hair from his robes, the Polyjuice Potion rumors he’d heard circulating among the Slytherins, and Malfoy’s sudden, intense interest in their whereabouts.

"It wasn't me," Harry whispered, his voice shaking with rage. He looked at Ginny, his eyes pleading. "Ginny, look at Malfoy."

She turned her head slowly, following Harry’s gaze. Draco didn't look away; he simply raised an eyebrow and gave a mock-sympathetic shrug before turning to walk toward the dungeons.

"He used Polyjuice," Harry said, his voice gaining strength. "He’s been trying to get between us for months. He’s jealous, Ginny. He wants what we have, and he knew the only way to break us was to make you hate me."

Ginny looked back at Harry, her expression a mix of confusion and lingering hurt. "But he sounded just like you. He knew about us sneaking around. He knew about the dreams."

"He’s been watching us," Harry said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "Because he’s a pathetic, lonely coward who can't win anything fairly. Ginny, I would die before I ever said those things to you. You are my world. You are the only thing that makes all of this worth it."

He reached out again, and this time, she didn't flinch. He took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "I love you. More than anything. Please, don't let him win."

Ginny searched his face, looking for the boy she knew. She saw the honesty in his green eyes, the raw vulnerability that Draco Malfoy could never hope to replicate. The coldness she had felt the night before began to thaw, replaced by a simmering anger directed toward the dungeons.

"He touched me," she whispered, her voice trembling with a new kind of fury. "He stood in my room and pretended to be you."

"I know," Harry said, his jaw set. "And he’s going to regret it. But right now, I need to know you believe me."

Ginny took a shaky breath and leaned forward, burying her face in his chest. Harry wrapped his arms around her instantly, holding her so tight it felt as though he could shield her from the entire world. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes fixed on the spot where Malfoy had disappeared.

"I believe you," she murmured against his robes. "I’m sorry. I should have known. You’d never be that cruel."

"We’re going to make him pay," Harry promised, his voice dark. "But first, I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the day."

"Good," Ginny said, pulling back to look at him. The fire was back in her eyes, brighter than before. "Because if I see him before you do, he’ll wish he’d stayed in the dungeons."

***

Later that evening, the moon rose high over the Forbidden Forest, casting long, skeletal shadows across the grounds. Draco Malfoy was sitting in the library, pretending to study, but his mind was replaying the morning’s events. He had seen them hugging. He had seen the way Potter had reclaimed her.

The plan had worked for a moment, but it hadn't been enough. The bond between them was more resilient than he had anticipated. He felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Malfoy."

He looked up to see Harry Potter standing over his table. He wasn't wearing his usual messy-haired, easy-going expression. He looked dangerous. His wand was gripped tightly in his right hand, though it was pointed at the floor.

"Potter," Draco drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Come to thank me for the relationship advice?"

Harry didn't flinch. He stepped closer, leaning over the table until he was inches from Draco’s face. "If you ever go near her again—if you ever use my face to talk to her, or even look in her direction—I won't go to Dumbledore. I won't go to McGonagall."

"Oh? And what will the Golden Boy do?" Draco sneered, though his heart began to thud uncomfortably against his ribs.

"I’ll show you exactly how 'brave' I can be when someone threatens what I love," Harry said, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "You think you’re sneaky, Draco? You’re transparent. You’re a lonely little boy who’s so desperate for affection that you have to steal someone else's life just to feel it for an hour."

Draco’s face flushed with shame and anger. He opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut him off.

"Stay away from her. This is your only warning."

Harry turned and walked away, leaving Draco sitting in the silence of the library. For the first time, the victory Draco had felt earlier felt hollow. He had touched her, yes. He had held her. But he had only done it by being someone else.

In the Gryffindor common room, the fire was roaring in the hearth. Harry climbed through the portrait hole and found Ginny waiting for him by the window. She didn't say anything as he approached. She simply took his hand and led him up the stairs.

That night, as Harry lay beside her in the quiet of her room, he held her closer than he ever had before. He listened to the steady beat of her heart and felt the warmth of her skin against his.

"Harry?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Harry closed his eyes, pulling her into the crook of his arm. "I love you too, Ginny. Always."

Outside, the wind howled against the stone walls of the castle, but inside, the light that Draco Malfoy had tried so hard to extinguish burned brighter than ever. The mirror of deception had been shattered, and in its place was a truth that no potion could ever mimic. Harry Potter was brave, and he loved Ginny Weasley more than anything—and that was a magic Malfoy would never understand.