Thirteen year old Draco Malfoy walked through the crowded corridors of Hogwarts, hoping to get this class on time. He had spent too much time talking to Pansy, who had been on his following him like a sick puppy ever since last year. He didn't know what to do anymore; he had tried everything. Threats, insults, even physically shaking her off of his arm once. Nothing worked.
"Just my luck." He said out loud to himself.
He walked into Transfiguration earlier than he expected. He still received a stern look from McGonagoll, even though class wasn't due to start for another five minutes.
The class was talking amongst themselves, waiting for their teacher to begin. He had this class with the Gryffindors. Ugh.
He heard laughter off to his left. There sat Potter, Weasel, and the Mudblood. Potter was still laughing at something Weasel had said, while Granger was shaking her head disapprovingly. Draco sneered.
Now that he thought about it, Potter was always laughing. In the Great Hall before, during, and after meals, in all the classes he had with Draco. The only time Potter seemed not to be laughing was when he was in Potions. Or arguing with Draco. Huh.
Draco had always been a rather curious boy. He was rather observant, taking in all the world around him delicately, as if it were always a step away from breaking like glass. When Draco was growing up, he would convince one of the house elves to wonder around the large Malfoy estate and answer questions. As a house elf, they were required to know everything about the family's origins. Draco was supposed to as well, but he found it more interesting to ask the house elves, rather than reading from a dusty old book.
So he asked questions. And those questions lead to more questions. And more questions. The house elves quickly grew tired of him, so he was left to assume. When he came to Hogwarts, he asked Severus. Severus had strict orders to take care of Draco (not only was the boy good at watching, but he was also quite skilled at listening to his father's conversations with other people).
And right now Draco wanted to know why Potter laughed so often.
Draco looked at the old clock that hung on the wall behind McGonagoll's desk. Four minutes and 45 seconds until class started. That should be enough time.
Draco mustered up his courage again sauntered over to the Gryffindor side of the classroom. There was no actual divider, but the Slytherins always sat on the right side, and the Gryffindors always sat on the left.
The room went relatively silent as Draco went over to the left side. No one EVER crossed to border. It was a given.
Nonetheless, Draco walked to where Potter and his sidekicks were sitting, ignored Weasley and Granger's glares, and asked Potter:
"How is it that you are able to laugh so often?"
The question rang throughout the silence. Potter looked confused, as did his friends. Potter looked at his friends helplessly, but Granger and Weasley turned their heads away. Interesting.
"I laugh because there's so much to laugh about." Draco wasn't positive, but Potter's words sounded, well, rehearsed.
"I laugh because laughter brings happiness, and happiness can get you through anything." He smiled at Draco, but the blonde boy saw how forced the boy's smile was.
Before anyone could say anything else, McGonagoll stood, signaling the start of class. Draco took one last look at Potter's fake smile before walking back to the Slytherin side of the room.
All through the lesson, Draco pondered what Potter's words and expression meant. He couldn't come up with an answer though, no matter how hard he tried.
When McGonagoll dismissed them for lunch, Potter was the first one out the room, quickly followed by his two cronies. Draco followed them, leaving his own "friends" behind.
The trio led him to an abandoned girls' bathroom. He hesitated before walking in. Did he really care about Potter's response to his poorly thought out question? He shouldn't! But he did.
Draco creaked the door open as quietly as he could. The group was huddled near the farthest sink from the door, talking in hushed voices. Draco casted a Disilluminate charm on himself before inching closer.
The first audible sound he heard was the sound of someone crying. 'Why on earth would someone be crying?' He thought. He came closer still, until he was standing next to the group.
"It's alright, mate," he recognized Weasley's voice.
"You're going to be alright, Harry, but you need to stop letting things get to you like this." Granger spoke in a quick, sharp whisper, as if she were annoyed.
The only person who hadn't spoken was Potter, who Draco presumed was the one crying. But why was he crying?
"I-I'm sorry, 'Mione. I-it just gets to b-be too much s-sometimes to k-keep a smile on my f-face." Potter hiccuped pitifully.
Granger's face softened. "You're going to be alright, Harry. We're here for you." She paused momentarily. "Do you need to see the picture?" What picture?
Potter nodded soundlessly. Granger pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her robe pocket and handed it to Potter. She and Weasel took a step back, nearly bumping into Draco. Draco sidestepped them and moved closer to Potter to see the 'picture.'
The crumpled paper held a smiling young red head with familiar green eyes. Next to her was a familiar and striking young man, his arm around her waist. The woman held a baby, who was miraculously smiling at the camera as well. The couple waved at the camera multiple times. Once, the woman picked up the baby's hand and moved it up and down, as if the child were waving on its own.
Potter collapsed into sobs. Draco realized with a shock- these were Potter's parents. And if his conscience was right, that baby was Potter.
Granger moved hastily towards Potter and engulfed him into a hug, Weasley rubbing his back while stealthily taking the picture from his hand. Draco felt like he was intruding on a private moment.
Oh yeah.
Eventually, Potter's sobs turned to sniffles, and his sniffles turned into controlled breathing. He turned and nodded at his two friends.
Granger moved in front of Potter, whispering a spell. Immediately, Potter's blotchy face and red eyes were clear. Weasley tapped his wand to Potter's throat and neck, whispering a different spell. Potter's sniffling ceased. Draco realized that the two did this with finesse, as if they had done this a million times. It was possible that they had.
The trio moved to exit of the bathroom, Draco behind them. Before they left, Granger pulled on Potter's arm, stopping him and Weasley. She spontaneously started to laugh. She pointed to her smile and eyes, and gestured for him to do the same as she. Weasley was doing the same thing.
Potter laughed the same laugh that he did all the time. Only this time, Draco could hear the hidden pain and anguish behind it.