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Harry Potter’s boggart was a dementor. Everyone knew that. Draco Malfoy certainly knew that.
So, three months into 8th year when a boggart caught a group of them off guard in an unused classroom, everyone expected the usual black cloaked figure when Potter instinctively stepped forward to banish the creature.
What they encountered instead threw everything into complete pandemonium.
Slender red tentacles, an elongated tubular body, and large eyes appeared before them. There was a moment of shocked silence as everyone took in the strange sight. In that brief moment, Draco saw Potter’s eyes widen, his shoulders tense, and a slight tremble from his hand that you could have blinked and missed.
Then, the entire room exploded into sound.
Weasley’s loud guffaw of “Is that the Giant Squid!” and Finnegan’s wheezing laugh added to the cacophony as Potter’s shouted Ridikkulus turned the cephalopod into a garishly colored muggle ring toss toy. Draco watched, partly with amusement and partly with a burning curiosity, as Potter aimed his wand again, shouted the spell a second time, and the whole creature exploded into pieces of what looked like brightly colored confetti.
He watched Potter suck in a ragged breath, roughly shrug off the concerned hand Granger laid on his shoulder, and then stride out of the corridor without another word.
Draco watched the other man go, curiosity burning in his gaze. Why, of all things, would Harry Potter, hero of the Wizarding World, be afraid of the Giant Squid?
••••
Two weeks after the first Boggart incident, Draco was slowly losing his mind over Harry Potter. Which if he was quite honest with himself, was nothing new. He had been obsessed with the bespectacled git in some manner since the very first time he laid eyes on him. It just took him about six years to figure out he was attracted to the boy hero and one fiery tandem broom ride to realize those feelings ran much deeper than mere attraction.
Which was the only logical explanation as to why he was outside the castle walls at half past midnight, under a silencing charm, following Potter through the grounds and towards the Black Lake.
He was merely curious, that’s all. He wasn’t worried in the slightest, nor did he have a burning desire to understand this new facet of Potter's personality.
They had fought a war and now most of their classmates had boggarts much worse than anything that appeared to them as mere children. Draco was dead certain his own boggart would be fiendfyre which terrified him more than he could express. But Potter, arguably the bravest of them all, was rattled by what seemed to be a placid lake creature.
A placid lake creature that the man in question seemed intent on visiting in the dead of the night.
Draco stood back hidden in the shadows as Potter approached the shore of the lake, walking out to the rickety dock there, and hovering around the edges as if in search of something. Suddenly his waved wand revealed a tiny boat that he must have kept hidden under a spell. This was obviously not the first time that the Gryffindor had made this trek
Draco did not want to be discovered, so he didn’t dare edge closer, but instead watched with fascination as Potter climbed into the boat and used magic to propel the small boat forward out over the surface of the lake, coming to a stop a few hundred yards from the shore.
Was Potter trying to face his fear? Was he afraid of drowning? Was he trying to let the squid take him? Draco didn’t have time to filter all the questions darting through his mind as he watched a red tentacle rise out of the water and over the side of Potter's watercraft.
Wand at the ready, Draco surged forward, thoughts of being caught banished as he rushed to the water's edge, lest Potter be dragged to the depths by a rogue sea creature. But instead of causing Potter any harm, it seemed as though the creature was gentle. Several tentacles wrapped around the sides to keep the boat steady, and one tentacle wrapped cautiously around Potter himself as the curved head poked up and out of the water.
Stopping in his tracks, Draco watched with bated breath as Potter gently patted the giant head. He couldn’t make out the other man’s expression from this distance but it almost seemed fond. How could one be fond of something they also feared? Perhaps Potter no longer feared anything, and the squid had just been for show?
But Draco had seen the fear and understanding in Potter's eyes as the boggart chose this form before him weeks ago. It was real, Draco just couldn’t understand why.
Lost in his thoughts, Draco had let his guard slip as he had wandered closer to the water's edge. A grave mistake as he heard a splash in the water and movement in the lake. Potter's boat was pointed back to shore and Potter was staring dead at him.
Draco’s eyes widened in panic before he fled.
••••
They were back in that blasted corridor again. Part of their 8th year transfiguration grade was to help finish the castle repairs, so the whole lot of them that had returned, spent at least one day a week repairing and reshaping musty old bricks and turrets.
Inevitably, more boggarts found them.
Potter, ever the hero, was always the first to step in front of the shapeshifter. His friends’ boggarts ranged wildly from werewolves to dead loved ones, so his giant squid seemed almost a blessing in contrast. But each time, Draco watched the set of his shoulders, and the pinch in his brow, and saw right through the mask of indifference that Potter tried to project.
He also noticed other things. Like how Potter seemed to be so apart from Granger and Weasley, a full-blown couple now, how he barely interacted even with those he once seemed close with. And how, every night, almost like clockwork, he snuck out of their dormitory to visit the giant squid.
Draco only followed him two more times after the first night, but he was always watching even long after Potter fled out onto the grounds.
When they passed each other the first morning after Potter caught him out, Draco watched as the other man tensed, as if waiting for the barbs and confrontations that had marked so much of their previous relationship. But Draco didn’t want to break the shaky truce they had established upon their return to Hogwarts, so instead he had stared straight into those emerald orbs, tipped his head and pleasantly uttered “Morning Potter,” as he headed off to class. The surprise and spark he had seen in Potter's gaze had been enough to lift his spirits for days.
Coming back to the present, Draco wiped his brow as he levitated a huge chunk of rock back into place. The further they got into the castle repairs, the deeper the damage seemed to linger. But, Draco wouldn’t complain, he owed it to these stones to see to it that every single one of them was restored to its original glory.
Potter breathed heavily beside him, seeming to be of the same mind, working tirelessly to try and fix what the war had broken. And maybe Draco was distracted as he stared at Potter's arse or the ripple of his muscles through his thin uniform shirt. Maybe that’s why it caught him off guard. Maybe that’s why he didn’t pay attention to the heat and fire that began to build.
“Malfoy!” Potter’s shout of alarm barely penetrated the haze that descended on him as Draco’s mind struggled to register the form he instinctively knew his own boggart took now.
It was fire.
Fiendfyre to be exact. The blazing Chimera blocking out everything except the feeling of panic and heat.
Draco wasn't sure why he had expected anything less, but instantly he was transported back to the Room of Requirement facing certain death.
He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. He couldn’t even recall the simple spell to banish it. It was like he couldn’t even function through the panic and haze.
”Malfoy… Draco… bollocks, not fire, not again. Riddikulus, you stupid creature.” He could hear Potter’s panicked voice vaguely penetrate through his shallow breaths and the blood rushing in his ears, feeling himself pulled once again from the flames as he struggled to get air into his ragged lungs.
A few moments later, he was dimly aware that he was leaning on strong arms, practically burrowed into Potter's warmth and strength. Potter was looking at him with something akin to tenderness and it was the last thing Draco’s fragile control could bear at the moment.
He felt vulnerable, which wasn’t something he handled well. At all. Plus, if he stayed this close to the other man any longer, breathing in his scent and the sense of safety he got from his arms in the face of the fire, he would probably never recover.
Improving enough to hide the tremble in his hands, Draco shoved roughly at Potter, “Get off me.”
“Not all of us are special enough to have no fears that the best you can come up with is the stupid Hogwarts school pet.” Draco sneered the word ‘pet' with such disdain, that even he was disgusted with the tone of his voice.
Potter immediately recoiled, his eyes, previously filled with care and concern and life, seemed to visibly dim. He was no longer supporting Draco, no longer rubbing warmth and strength back into his arms. In fact he was just still and hurt, and Draco wished immediately that he could take the words back.
He had been in Potter's arms for all of two glorious seconds and had mucked it up that quickly.
By the time Draco turned around to try and apologize, or explain or say anything that didn’t sound horrible, Potter was gone.
••••
Hours later, Draco knew he still owed Potter an apology. The problem was, he couldn’t find the git anywhere. It was like he simply disappeared from the castle grounds, and Draco knew Potter was an expert in sneaking around when he wanted to. After what seemed like forever, Draco realized the one place that Potter appeared at like clockwork.
Grabbing his cloak and hoping no one caught him in the hallways, Draco left the common room and headed down to the Lake. He just hoped that he was right. And that they could go back to the friendly truce that they had been previously enjoying. He refused to believe that the spark of life and warmth he had felt from Potter earlier could mean anything more, but something in him still hoped.
Sure enough, Potter was sitting perched over the water on the small forgotten dock. Draco could see the red tentacles poking out of the water as Potter skipped rocks out into the Black Lake. He was staring into the night, head on his knees and Draco could just feel the sadness radiating from him. It was time to figure out Potter’s boggart once and for all.
“Potter.”
“Go away, Malfoy. I don’t need any more ridicule.”
“I'm sorry, Potter.”
“Just leave me… wait , you are actually apologizing for something?.”
“As it happens, yes, I am. Thank you for earlier. I,” he hesitated, “fire is quite difficult for me to handle.”
Potter didn’t answer, but shook his head minutely and resumed staring out over the water.
The silence stretched between them, and Draco was just about ready to head back to the castle, peace between them futile, when Potter casually waved his hand in a motion for Draco to join him on the dock.
Quickly folding himself down beside Potter, Draco watched as the squid bobbed along the surface, bringing the rocks Potter had thrown earlier back to the dock. Its long tentacle touched Potter rather affectionately on the knee, and Draco swore it was the first smile he had seen from the man for days.
“Did you know that Gallahad here isn’t actually a real squid? The founders created him.” Potter shifted as he spoke, limbs unfurling as he angled his body ever so slightly towards Draco’s own.
Draco turned to face Potter bridging the gap imperceptibly slowly, not sure whether to be more shocked by the fact that Potter had finally broken the silence, or by the words he had broken it with.
“The founders named a squid Gallahad?”
The look Potter sent at that outburst was pure exasperation, emerald eyes glittering sharply against the black night. Draco looked at him fondly, happy to at least see some spark return. It was a start, and Draco wanted to keep Potter talking.
Potter continued, “He was a permanent transfiguration created by Helga Hufflepuff meant to shore up the lake defenses for the castle. They made him for one purpose, and that was to stop an attack on the castle, or at least hold off the attackers until his magic gave out.”
Potter hesitated before speaking again, “That’s what he did though, he defended this place with everything he had and it nearly did him in.”
“Well, he looks fine now, sprightly even. Wait, how do you know all of this?”
Potter released a sigh, “I found him.”
Potter shifted, bringing them fractions closer, and Draco took the opportunity to inch his hand towards Potter’s own, knowing deep down that this conversation was something vital, something he needed to once again understand Potter.
“After the battle… I… I couldn’t stay in the Great Hall anymore, I couldn’t look at the dead any longer. So I came here. He was washed up on this very dock, and his magic was fading.”
As if sensing Harry was speaking of him, Galahad reached out, a long red tentacle slithering over both of them, resting on Harry’s knee.
“He can communicate, sort of, through his arms,” Harry said as he patted the squid. “He was lying here, as I said, magic flickering. He almost died for this castle, and no one even noticed.”
“I couldn’t be responsible for another person, another being, dying in that blasted battle. This lake was his home, for nearly a thousand years, and I panicked. He showed me images, and I..I gave him my magic.”
“Potter, he looks okay now.”
“But you don’t understand, I don’t know what enchantments the founders used to create him. So I couldn’t restore any of his magic powers. He doesn’t have a purpose anymore. He nearly died in that battle, and now he is stuck in this lake alone for the rest of his existence.”
Potter shuddered again, and Draco realized with startling clarity that Harry was not just talking about the giant squid being purposeless and alone. Consequences be damned, Draco reached out, closing the distance and grabbing Harry’s hand. He was shocked when calloused fingers curled around his own instead of pulling away.
“He is useless now, just floating around while the rest of this castle is being rebuilt, being fixed, and he’s stuck here while everyone moves on. Did you know that practically no one even visits him except at the beginning of the year. The rest of the time, he’s forgotten until they need him for something. And what would they need him for now?”
Suddenly, Draco understood it all. Exactly why Harry’s boggart took this shape. Just as Draco’s cursed fire represented every mistake and bad choice he had made and moment of pain he had caused, this squid, Harry’s boggart, represented the aftermath of the war. Harry felt lonely and like he had served his purpose.
Well that was bollocks.
Potter’s ragged breath beside him made the decision easy. Shifting, Draco pulled himself on his knees, he turned to face Harry, keeping their fingers entwined, bringing their bodies closer. He may end up in the lake with Gallahad after this, but obviously Harry needed something, and Draco decided to chance it.
“You are not the squid. Potter, Harry you still have a purpose.”’
“I wasn’t…” But Draco stared right into Harry’s eyes, effectively cutting the man off mid sentence. They were so close their breath mingled, but neither man made an effort to move.
Pulling back slightly, eyes still locked, Draco took over, “Potter,”
“Harry, please,” the words were mere whispers. Draco nodded.
“Harry. You saved my life and the life of every person in this drafty castle. Hell, you even saved a transfigured squid that probably no one in the past millennia has even bothered to learn the name of.”
Harry tried to drop his gaze, but Draco brought his other hand gently to Harry’s face, emerald and grey aligned once again. They really were so very close.
“Let me finish. You are not stuck here. You have whatever future you want, laid out before you. The war was not your purpose, you still can figure that out. You don’t have to keep setting yourself apart from your friends, from the rest of us. You don’t have to be lonely.”
Harry laughed, bitter and wanting, and this time he did shift to disturb the closeness that they had formed, pulling his hand out of Draco’s own, creating distance. A distance Draco did not want, not after earlier in the classroom and certainly not now.
“And who would want me just for me, not just the whole boy-who-lived nonsense? I’m a mess, who would want me for just Harry?”
“Maybe the same person who knows you well enough to figure out exactly why your boggart is a bloody giant squid.” And suddenly Draco was done with every inch that separated them, consequences be damned.
He pulled Harry roughly towards his mouth, using his slight height advantage to crowd into the other man’s space, bringing their lips together in a kiss that was more emotion than finesse. For a moment, Harry was still, mouth unmoving as if frozen. But then, he burst into movement, parting his lips between Draco’s own, sliding his free hand into Draco’s hair and using their once again entwined hands to pull Draco’s weight on top of him.
Then, it was all sensation as they deepened the kiss, heartbeats and limbs moving in sync as they shamelessly explored each other’s bodies. Harry felt warm and present, and alive in a way that few things ever had to Draco, and he was going to keep chasing this feeling as long as he was allowed.
After some time, Harry broke the rhythm of their kiss, of their many kisses, for just a second but it was enough for Draco to see the shock and wonder mixed with just a little bit of hesitancy.
Well, that wouldn’t do.
“Guess, you’ll need a new boggart, Potter, seeing as I don’t plan to let you go.”
Harry’s answering growl and the grin that adorned his face was all the confirmation Draco needed to know that was exactly the right thing to say. History had proven they were much better with actions between them than they were with words.
Harry yanked Draco down flush against him, bodies intertwined from head to toe, mouths and hands and everything else connected. Harry kissed him once more, then the world shifted as Draco was rolled onto the dock, Harry’s green eyes and wide smile smirking above him, and then there were hands under Draco’s shirt and a mouth on his neck. Draco shifted up slightly, letting Harry feel that he was ready and wanting, he didn’t care if they were outside in plain sight.
And then, suddenly they were drenched, large tentacles splashing them both, Galahad watching, bobbing in the water, and Draco could have sworn the stupid thing had a glint in its beady eyeball.
And Harry was laughing. Not a small sound, but instead loud rolling laughter that went all the way to his gut. Draco had not seen him this free, this unburdened since sometime in 3rd year. It was beautiful.
He threw his head back as he stilled, small chuckles still escaping as he lay down next to Draco, rolling so that they were still touching from shoulder to shoe, the closeness something unspoken and tender between them.
“Guess Gallahad didn’t like the show. Maybe we should head inside- continue this somewhere warm and less wet?”
Draco couldn’t think of anything that sounded better, so leaning in to place one last kiss on Harry’s lips, he nodded. “I’d very much like that.”
And Harry, greedy sod that he was, deepened the kiss once again, Draco unable to resist. Until a loud thumping from Gallahad once again broke the two men apart. Draco rose, pulling Harry to his feet, still dripping slightly but all smiles nonetheless. Smirking at the sullen sea creature, Draco entwined their hands, pulling Harry towards the castle and to their waiting bed.
“Bloody giant squid.”