Summary: Harry's got a secret and Draco's keeping it. After his seventh year at Hogwarts Harry got infected and left England with Draco with him. A year later they return to the country that they left, but things aren't exactly what they seem to be anymore. How long will it before Harry's secret is out, and who exactly infected him?
Authors Note: Completely new for me. I'm still playing around with their personalities a bit because they're not ickle Hogwarts students anymore. They're university students now... Yeah. I don't own anything, blah, blah.
It felt just like any other day really. Typical, run of the mill type of thing. Even the weather seemed the same, just like he remembered it being this time of year. Fairly windy with an overcast of clouds not thick enough to be that of rain clouds. Still, it was enough for Draco to know that he was home at last. He had spent one whole year away from England to go to a school over in the states, for a reason he himself didn't even understand, and with someone whom he loathed, he had just done it. Now, he was back, and wasn't completely sure exactly why he was back. In his wake at Flarus University, for what little time he had been on campus he had spent indoors, gray eyes idly scanning the students, however he walked with a lazy stride, showing his little interest on the actually happenings.
Upon coming outside he stood for a small moment with his bangs as always falling into his eyes as he cast a glance around him, taking in his outdoor surrounding, becoming familiar with it all. And then he pushed back his bangs and began to walk, looking about as impassive as he had been when he was a first year back at Hogwarts, waiting to be sorted. Of course this meant his head was held in a high a proud manner, and his stride was confident, as it should have been. It was all to be a blame on his upbringing, and those of which he grew up with, and around, the Zabini's, the Parkinson's, Greengrass', and many more. Draco, in all his years, had slightly altered. Now, more than anything, he was slightly more hushed than before. Well, maybe not.
As Draco made his way across the grounds a sneer slowly graced his features at a loud eruption of laughter. There was just a thing about some peoples laughter that irked him to no extent, and when they just let it all go like that, well, it too irked him to no extent. He would make due, however, just as he had always in the past. Now, more than halfway across the grounds he averted his path down to the forest. Anywhere, he reasoned, was better than being in the dead eye of the rest of the student body, or so he would have liked to believe. Maybe it was some kind of paranoia of being new to a school that many of his old friends had been attending for the past year. Well, what ever it was, it was irking him as well.
Draco saw no point in turning back now, once he had already entered the forest. He didn't have a care for any rule set toward the forest. It made due for a small escape from a rampant reality of being back in his homeland, and feeling like he was in a new country all over again. It was stupid, really. There was nothing that he should have been worried about, and yet he was. Though about what he didn't know either. Having forgotten how long he had been walking, and forgotten how far he had gone into the forest Draco stopped and glanced around him, and physically relaxed. There was just something about being in a forest that was always so calming, never mind that in some cases there were deadly and dangerous creatures roaming about.
The trees around him billowed high over head, their roots in the ground sprouting out of the ground, some just barely reaching the surface of the forest floor. Few fallen trees lay off in the distance behind a thicket of more trees and various bushes. There was a cluster of flapping of wings, the twitter of some kind of bird, and the distinct cawing of a crow. The wind whistled through the trees and their branches, picking up fallen dead leaves from the ground for a few blissful moments of flight before the leaves pervaded on the forest floor and lay to rest, blending in with the brown of the dirt.
Draco gave a nonchalant roll of his shoulders before he moved to lean against a tree as he continued to take in his surroundings, listening to the distant caw of crows, and the not so distant flapping of wings, and the rustling of bushes and leaves. Alone time, was all well and good when in a forest all alone left to the sound of nature. Well, that was what he was taught to believe, and frankly, Draco wasn't quite sure he really believe in any of that. He still felt like the new kid in school. Which was ridiculous. He was only a new kid.
"And to think, I thought Parkinson was lying," came a drawling voice. Draco couldn't help to pick his head up a bit. "You have come back, Malfoy."
Draco fought back the obvious smirk and settle for a sneer, leaning heavily against the tree. "Zabini, if I had wanted to talk with you don't you think I would have sought you out?" he replied, arching his eyebrows. He shifted against the tree, allowing the dark skinned boy to meet his gaze. "Pansy attends here, then? Word will get around fast if she is in fact the one who told you." He smirked, not at all fond of the idea. After all, he had spent a whole year away from London, from everyone, and his business was his own.
Truth be told it was because of his roomie that he was back in the pit of snakes and twisted truths. He hated it from the moment they had stepped onboard their plane back from the states.
Blaise seemed to be regarding him with narrowed eyes which only caused Draco to scowl. From what Blaise could see Draco hadn't changed that much. Just an inch or two longer and looking like he hadn't cut his hair in a month, with the way that his hair hung over his eyes every so often. The Malfoy was still the same. Blaise snorted softly to himself, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, cocking his head to the side, as if trying to determine whether or not this was still the same Draco that he had known a year ago before he went away.
"He's back too, isn't he?" He questioned, his eyes still narrowed, watching as Draco's scowl deepened.
"Oh, what a smart boy you are," Draco snapped, pushing himself away from the tree. "He's back, yes."
Blaise stood up straight. "Why did you leave, Draco, for a whole sodding year?"
"Ah," Draco said, tilting his chin up. "That, Blaise, would be telling, wouldn't it?"
He rubbed at the side of his neck, defeated. It was far too early in the morning to be expected to unpack all of his belongings into the room. And the room smelled. It was more like a loft than anything. Actually, now that he thought about it, it was a loft, and its previous owners obviously didn't know a how to cast a good cleaning spell, or an odor removement spell. Still, they had all the time in the world to make it their own. It was a new year, and everything was all set, nothing could go wrong, not this time. Harry would make sure that he told his friends the truth about why he left, but not right away.
The Boy Who Lived couldn't have been any happier to be back in England. Returning home was like picking up your favorite book after having lost it. It was still the same and yet he noticed something now that he hadn't before, and it made him wonder if he was wrong to have left in the first place, and if he would be able to make this life work. It was a new school, different from the one he had attended in the states, and much more advanced than Hogwarts had ever been.
But he couldn't call it home. He couldn't live with in the walls in one of its three houses, similar to those of Hogwarts, like the rest of the students attending. No, Harry had to share the loft; it wasn't something new to him. He had shared his last one too, and with the same person, and he hoped it would be different now. Harry wanted to at least get a good feel for this school; he wanted to be with his friends again but that wouldn't happen unless he felt right with the school.
"I could tell you one hundred possible ways that you could have been done unpacking by now," Draco drawled from the door, having slid into the loft some few minutes ago.
Harry didn't bother to turn around as he responded. "I'd rather you didn't, thanks."
"Oh, but they would very enticing, I assure you," the blonde replied, striding over to the other end of the room, not bothering at all to see what Harry was doing. "Besides, someone needs to teach you how to unpack properly and neatly."
Harry walked into the next room and closed the door before reemerging from it. He glanced up at Draco once, wrinkling his nose. Yes, the loft had an awful smell, he had decided. "I thought you were going out," he commented offhandedly before sitting in front of a box that most likely contained what little books they had used in their classes last year.
"I did go out," Draco replied, waving his hand dismissively. "And then I came back. You know, that tends to happen a lot when you live somewhere. You go out, and come back after a while," he paused, watching as Harry dug through the books. "Potter, I've got a brilliant idea! Why don't you give it a try?"
Harry just shrugged. "Maybe latter. Unless you want to help unpack?"
"Good Merlin, no," Draco sniffed. "I did the packing."