Overdrive
For @drarrymicrofic prompt for this weeek: Overdrive
No one has seen Malfoy in days.
Harry feels like he might crawl out of his skin; how is nobody else concerned or at least curious that Draco Malfoy has been absent from all school activities in several days?
Harry spends his meal times looking between the door and the Slytherin table, hoping to catch a glimpse of that shiny head of blonde hair. He spends his classes with the Slytherins watching the door, hoping the git will make an entrance. Most of his nights are occupied with staring at the Malfoy dot on the Marauders map, which has not left the dungeons in days.
The sixth-year Slytherins won't give Harry the time of day. No one will talk to him about what could be wrong with Malfoy or why he has not left the Slytherin dorm.
Since no one will tell him anything, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands and find out for himself what Malfoy was up to. He waits until dinner time, when he is certain the dungeon will be as empty as possible, hidden under the invisibility cloak, he heads towards the Slytherin dorm. He slips in just as a group of third years head out for dinner.
He expected to find Malfoy in a number of conditions when he finally saw the blond. Harry's mind has been going through different scenarios to figure out what might have happened to make Malfoy stuck in his dorm, each scenario is worse than the last, to the point where he feels like his brain is going into overdrive. But what he had not anticipated was finding a shrunken version of Malfoy.
He thinks the kid, who looks more like the child Harry had met at Madam Malkins than the sixth-year student Harry had seen less than a week ago, is Malfoy. They both have the same features, from the shiny blond hair, pointy face, the grip of the fingers on the quill, down to the way the kid's eyebrows are drawn together in concentration as he studies the Arithmancy text.
Harry pulls off the cloak once he's sure the dorm is empty. “Malfoy?” he asks.
The kid's head whips up to find Harry, takes a good long look at Harry and sneers. “Who are you?” the child asks.
If he doubted that this child was Malfoy before, the sneer is all the confirmation Harry needs. Usually, that would have led to Harry saying something snarky in response, but this time, Harry feels a wave of affection wash over him at the familiar sight. “I'm Harry,” he says, smiling gently. “What happened to you?”
Malfoy's gaze is assessing as he gives Harry another once over. “Harry,” he repeats, like he is testing the word. His words are softer this time. “Harry Potter?” Harry can only nod. “Are we friends?”
The words roll out of Harry's tongue faster than his brain can compute and much easier than Harry wants to examine. “Yes, we're friends.”