Draco didn't think about it. As soon as he saw Potter turning around in the middle of the hellish fire, he knew he was coming for him. To push him to his doom or to save him, Draco didn't know for sure, but it was Harry Potter! Of course he would save Draco.

But as Potter approached slowly in the too-old broom, Draco doubted. He had mocked, hurt and cursed Potter many times before, directly and indirectly. What if Potter decided to finally pursue vengeance?

Potter was now in hovering above him, trying to get closer without burning himself or the broom that was their salvation. He held his hand out to Draco, but he didn't take it.

There was a hesitation that came with the knowledge of being the wrong party in a conflict that had lasted seven years, and it seemed Potter knew it.

"Trust me, Draco,"

And when Draco heard the fear in Potter's voice and saw the pity on his eyes he knew he could trust him.

He grabbed Potter's arm at the second try and launched himself upwards to climb the broom behind the boy who had been his rival since they were both eleven years old. How idiotic all their past interactions seemed in that moment.

As soon as he was in safe ground, Draco ran away without thanking Potter for saving him. He might have trusted Potter, but saving his life didn't erase the hate between them, and it only served to make Draco feel useless and pathetic.

Most of all, the same reason why he trusted in Potter was the reason why he didn't want to look at those green eyes again: Draco didn't want to see the pity on his eyes.