Hello!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's starting to get interesting now!
Remember to, please ,review so I can get to know all your thoughts/queries (: Bye for now!
Draco walked up the steps behind a duo of Gryffindor girls who were giggling and cooing over Harry Potter and how "brave", and "strong" he was.
Ugh, Potter, Draco thought to himself, full-of-himself Potter, strutting around the castle like he owns the place. Just because he killed Voldemort, he shuddered at the thought of the old, now deceased, monster, doesn't make him King.
He looked up at the two girls who were now glaring over their shoulders at him. Squinting for a moment, unsure of why, Draco then realised that he had muttered the last few words of his thoughts out loud, and just loud enough for the girls in front of him to hear. They then turned their heads to face in the direction of where they were walking but continued to talk about Draco, or should I say "that Gryffindor boy", as they headed towards the common room.
Malfoy was now in costume, posing as a Gryffindor student, even though he was the exact opposite. He bared messy, medium length curls in a dark brown colour that framed his tanned complexion, and a strong, muscular build: he was now everything that the real Draco wasn't. The hair Daphne had given him was from her older cousin, Joseph who had left Hogwarts many years ago, so there would be no chance in any one recognising him as somebody they knew. It took Draco a little while to believe Daphne's story since they whole Greengrass family were are white as porcelain dolls, until, of course, she revealed that her Auntie married a wealthy Bulgarian pure-blood. That made sense to Draco.
The two girls had now forgotten all about their annoyance towards Malfoy and began cooing over Harry again, their ramblings becoming more frantic and girlish, as they approached the Fat Lady. Uttering the password, the girls stepped inside and oddly rushed to get up the stairs to what Draco guessed was the girls' dormitory. He followed them through the portrait hole and made a note to himself to remember that password for future reference.
Malfoy looked around the Gryffindor common room. It was completely different from the common room he had spent of all his Hogwarts years hiding in. The Slytherin common room was large, dull, cold and secluded; this common room was small, but homely, brightly coloured and it had a warm feeling to it, not just of temperature – thanks to the roaring fire – but of atmosphere, too.
Now, to the fun part, Malfoy thought to himself, heading towards the stairs. Since the watched the girls walk up the stairs and turn to the right, he figured that he boys dorms would be on the left, unless Gryffindors were less honourable than they cared to let on. He sniggered at this own thoughts.
The Slytherins' plan for Malfoy was for him to find something hilariously embarrassing, or incriminating on the beloved Trio to bring down their respect levels with the rest of the school. Although they came off as perfect individuals, even they must have dirty little secrets. Especially Harry Potter. Having to live up to everybody's high expectations over the years meant that Harry must have had to hide a lot of skeletons in his closet. Just as he approached the foot of the stone steps, Draco caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting in front of the fire, silently brooding. He let his eyes adjust to the contrast before instantly realising who it was. Walking towards the empty chair next to him, he smirked. Who better to talk to than Potter himself? Surely he had something on Weasley or Granger that he was willing to reveal, following his and Weasley's fall out, of course.
For the past seven years of his life, all Harry had to worry about was Voldemort, and for the past three all that was on his mind was that he needed to kill him. Now that he had defeated the Dark Lord; had wiped out all problems he and the Wizarding World had, he was finally getting to live his life like he should have from the very start – like a normal kid. Although he was no longer a kid, but a grown man, and he had the press all over him at every chance they got, but having one last year at Hogwarts made it feel like he was the stupid, ignorant teenager that he had always wanted to be.
But now that Harry had freedom to do whatever he pleased he was beginning to find out new things about himself; things that had never occurred to him before.
For one, he didn't love Ginny. Whatever he had felt for her during the past two years, whether it be brotherly love or just best friendship, must have been enhanced by the fear of the possibility of their deaths and Harry must have got that confused with "love". It was possible seeing as the only person he had grown to truly love was Sirius, since he had no memory of his parents and all he felt when he thought about them was longing, loss and pain, but even at that he knew the love he felt for his godfather was different of that he would feel towards someone he wanted to be in a relationship with. Whoever he did want to be in a relationship with, it sure wasn't her.
It took Harry a month or so after the summer to come to this conclusion. He told Ginny a few weeks ago that he no longer felt anything towards her – not wanting to hurt her more by revealing that he never really did – and she took it well. Of course she was upset – she had harbored a crush on Harry since before they had even met – but she put on a brave face and still remained civil to Harry. He knew, despite how cordial she was being, that their friendship would not return back to normal any time soon. The same applying to his and Ron's friendship. Ever since he ended things with Ginny, for the second time as Ron liked to point out, he had been furious with Harry. As soon as Ginny told Ron he stormed into the common room and caused such a scene in front of every one, and they hadn't spoke since that argument. Harry had barely spoke to Hermione either; not face to face anyway. She had no choice but to side with Ron considering their new romantic commitment to each other. This didn't apply to the redhead if he were in the wrong but in this case Hermione knew that Harry deserved whatever was thrown his way. Although, unknown to her boyfriend, Hermione would slip notes into Harry's pocket as they passed each other in the corridors or at meal times, and Harry would reply to her by doing the same. Using owls was too open and risky.
Evidently, Harry was all alone. With no close friends to spend time with or laugh with at nights and weekends, he spent his time feeling sorry for himself in front of the fire, wishing Sirius was still alive to talk to him in these lonely moments. Sighing deeply, Harry rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and placed his chin in that same hand, staring into the blazing flames. This year was supposed to be the year he found happiness within himself; that same happiness that had been hidden within him, buried in the rubble of the ongoing fight between him and Voldemort for years, but looking at how things were going, he knew that life had an entirely different plan for him.
"You would've thought saving the world would bring joy to people, especially the person who was the saviour," Draco spoke, softly, but loud enough for Harry to hear. He jumped at the sound of somebody else's voice to near; he'd heard people coming and going all day but not once had someone stopped to speak to him, and neither did he expect anyone to. A smirk twitched at the corners of Draco's lips. Harry just shrugged in reply.
"Being a saviour isn't all it's cracked up to be." Harry said bluntly with a hint of anger seeping into his words. He was angry at his life which, at the thought of it, almost made Harry snort. Things never really change, do they?
The two stood in silence for a few more minutes. Harry wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone and Draco didn't know how to approach the boy he had loathed all his life, especially when he was brooding. Was he ever happy? Rolling his eyes, he decided to make the first move towards conversation. Draco walked around the side of the couch and plonked himself down beside Potter. He slouched into the back of the chair, which was surprisingly comfy, and crossed his legs. A few more minutes of silence went by before Draco finally groaned in annoyance.
"Lighten up! Do you ever smile?" He sneered. Jolting his eyes open, Draco wanted to groan once more in annoyance but this time at himself. He was supposed to be befriending the boy in order to get something criminal, or even a hint at it, against the the other two parts of the Trio, and this certainly wasn't they way he should be going about it.
Usually if Harry were to receive a question like that in such a manner, he would have hissed his retort, but instead he said nothing and just shrugged.
This was going to be one tough night.
"How are things with W- err, Ron?" Malfoy asked. He squirmed at using the weasel's first name.
"I d'nno." He mumbled. Of course he knew, but what was the point in delving into details? Ron hated him, which would just make him more upset, and why did the stranger care so much anyway?
Draco wanted to stand up at shout at Potter for being so pathetic. Weasley was nothing more than a friend, not a bloody love interest! Why did he care so much anyway? If he were Harry, he'd be thinking good riddance! But Draco remained silent and suppressed his anger like his father had taught him too – although not very well, but it seemed to be working this time. Letting a small sigh escape his lips, so small Harry didn't even notice, Draco realised what he had to do; he had to sympathise. He had seen Pansy do it plenty of times, mainly to bed the guy she was trying to make feel better, but how hard could it be? He'd have to travel far outside his comfort zone but if he returned to the Slytherin's empty handed they would just persist he'd have to go on another "night out" with them.
Draco took a deep breath in.
"Don't be so hard on yourself!" He said, trying to project as much genuine warm into his words as he could but most of it had to be faked. A classic first line; Pansy always started off with that one. "You done the right thing," Another classic. Not knowing much about Harry and Ginny's situation, but knowing enough to "comfort" him, he just let the rest of the words float off his tongue without giving them a second thought, "You had to break up with her. It would have hurt her more to stay with her if you didn't want her, and... Ron, well he'll see sense soon enough, and realise that what you did was not only better for Ginny but for all of you. At least you did what you did now instead of waiting until it was too late and she was too attached." After finishing his little speech, Draco was shocked. He didn't expect to sound so good.
Feeling proud of himself, he continued, "Ron will come running back to you once he's come to terms with things. You've been through so much for him to neglect you now. It's only a matter of time," Draco thought he was beginning to sound like Granger. "And I'm sure the Boy-Who-Lived can live through a few more weeks alone."
Throughout Draco's whole spiel he had neglected to notice Harry attention upon him. For the first time since he'd entered the room, Harry's gaze was now solely focused on Draco, and for the first time in a few weeks, a smile graced his face. It wasn't faked; you could tell by the glint in his emerald eyes. Malfoy was pulled out of his aloof trance by this very glint.
The – usually but not in this circumstance – blonde's breath hitched. Harry's smile. He had never been on the receiving end of one of his smiles before. It was warm and gentle, yet mischievous, and it made Draco's stomach do somersaults. It felt like he had been staring in awe at his smile for days when the brunette finally spoke, breaking Malfoy's trance yet again and making him blush, whether it was out of embarrassment or anger he didn't know. Though not even the Polyjuice Potion could hide the crimson of his cheeks.
"I suppose you are right. Thanks." Harry said. His sincerity set off Draco's stomach again; he never thought it was feel this good to, finally, be on the right side of Harry.
By this point he had forgotten all about why he had originally came here, and instead sat, for what seemed like ages, smirking at Harry whilst Harry, somewhat happier than he had been all week, smirked back.