Those Chorus Chapters.
The days rolled into weeks which in turn accumulated into months. Harry’s life seemed stagnant without anything happening. Well stating that nothing happened would be like hiding the truth. The first few days as Draco contained mild action stained with being at the receiving end of hate.
To begin with, he got to escape head boy duties and long lectures at McGonagall’s office and the ones that Hermione preached. He almost sighed heavily in relief when McGonagall had told Draco (to her it was Harry Potter) that he could not play quidditch and support Gryffindor - for it was his job as head boy to be neutral to all. Which is just as good, for draco looked like he was going to stain people’s impressions of harry’s seeker skills anyway.
Draco and harry’s conversations in that destroyed lavatory were almost the only conversations harry used to have all day. He would hurry in the mornings and rush away from all the slytherin surroundings. He had found a nice little hide out by the quidditch pitch where he could stay for a long time until classes begun.
His classes were no break from normal routine. It was all monotonous. ranging from lessons about drowned islands to the vast variety of harmful fish to healing seeds to potions about which harry personally had more knowledge. Poly juice potion. Amormentia. Speaking of which Amormentia still smelled like broomsticks, treacle tart and Ginny’s flowery perfume. Which once again evoked mingled thoughts. Memories.
Harry was having trouble downing any treacle tarts due to the ever increasing pain in the molar. That wasn’t the only reason he was visiting Madame Pomfrey. He seemed to fall ill and feel hollow quite often recently. Draco clearly did not pay any attention to his waning health. Harry was suffering the consequences. There wasn’t a day he did not trudge up to the hospital wing.
Coming to Ginny, harry had finally managed to find her alone in the quidditch pitch, studying the conditions. He spoke to her about what had happened. Her sharp, suspicious looks melted in an instant as she hugged him, assuring him that they would find a way out. Ever since, they spent a lot of time in his secret hideout by the pitch. Snuggling together just like those good old days before war, though occasionally Ginny felt uncomfortable letting Malfoy’s being hug her or talk to her lovingly just like Harry did. But then one look into Malfoy’s eyes, she could see her old harry just behind it. Substantial but beyond reach.
Besides this, Harry’s life had been pretty much uniform. In the initial stages, Narcissa used to punctuate it with little incidents which taught him to view the Malfoy s behind the death eater cloaks. But then again, the parents had left. Mrs Weasley made quite a noisy departure. George had decided to stay back at Hogwarts and assist McGonagall. Mrs. Weasley preferred him to stay by her side. Especially since George stared disappearing often.
Currently, Harry sat alone, in his hideout- playing with the crystal ball that Narcissa had handed him before leaving. ‘It tells you when danger’s near.’ She said as she hugged him, running her pale hands through Harry’s blonde hair. Presently, the crystal ball suddenly filled with fumes of red. Just like a rememberall.
Harry peeped through the thick curtain of vines. The inky sky signalled the late night hour. He wondered who would venture by the quidditch pitch at such an odd hour. Especially someone who brought danger?!?. He looked on. He spotted Hermione walk in with himself (draco disguised in Harry Potter’s body).
Harry had been observing them for a long time. Even since Ron started going out with Parvati, Hermione and ‘Harry’ could be seen together everywhere. Now, especially since they were Head Boy and Girl and the fact that Ginny seemed to be going out with ‘Malfoy’.
Harry watched quietly, as they seated themselves by the Gryffindor pavilion.