Harry almost felt sympathetic when he saw the reproachful look he was getting. Almost.
When he thought back to all the times Malfoy had insulted Ron's family ( he was a git but Harry loved him really) or called Hermione a Mudblood he wanted to punch the dick again. This time though, he let the feeling pass. Sometimes the strength of emotion he felt towards Malfoy concerned him.
But thats just how enemies feel. I have strong emotions towards him because I hate him. Thats all.
Satisfied with this explanation, Harry looked back towards the injured blond. For a moment of weakness he felt sorry for hitting him (though he had it coming) and attempted to make up for it.
He vocalised awkwardly, unused to swapping words not intended to wound.
"I've got some tissues in my pocket if you want one. You know, for your nose."
"Your eloquence never ceases to amaze me Potter," voiced Malfoy endeavouring to show that the punch had not fazed him in the slightest. If he was surprised by Harry's mood swing from enraged to apologetic, then he didn't show it.
Malfoy's constant indifference bothered Harry. He didn't know why and was always careful not to show it irked him. "Want one or not?"
"Fine," Malfoy was always diligent in showing just how much it pained him to address an inferior like Harry.
As Harry handed him a thin white tissue, whiter even than Malfoy himself, he noticed something odd about his posture.
Unlike the usual poker-straight stance of the upper class pureblood he always loved to hate, this Malfoy was slightly hunched over.
He looked porcelain and fragile, as though he would shatter at the least force. Harry resisted the temptation to reach out and touch him, this elfin figure, white and blood red-This is Malfoy! Ferret Face, Draco Muggleborns-Are-The-Devil Malfoy. No more of that.
Now Harry had told his strange brain who was boss, he turned his attention back to Malfoy. While the Slytherin still seemed slightly unsteady, Harry was sure he could see some amusement there too.
"Something funny Malfoy?"
"Just your vacant expression Potter. So typical of a dumb Gryffindor."
"All sympathy towards Malfoy evaporated. He couldn't just be human for more than a second.
"Since I'm such an idiot, tell me, oh cunning one, how we're going to get out of here."
"Well Potter, if we're lucky, someone will come past and we can ask them to unlock the door,"
Lucky! Thought Harry. He had forgotten completely about the bottle of luck potion in his pocket. The sip he had taken earlier probably hadn't worn off yet. So why am I stuck in here?
"'You're doing it again," drawled Malfoy. He too had slunk down to the floor. I didn't think it was possible for someone to lounge in a dusty store-room.
"What?"
"Staring into space."
"I'm just thinking."
"What about?" It might have been imagined but Harry thought he heard a curious edge to Malfoy's familiar dry tone.
"Why do you care?" He really was behaving weirdly today.
"Well there isn't much else to do in there is there? Or would you rather sit in silence until someone ambles in here and lets us out."
"We don't exactly have the best track record for 'just talking' do we Malfoy." he gestured to the tissue held up to his companions bloody nose.
"Theres a first for everything."
"Well this is odd. We're being civilised. I can almost forget what a colossal prick Malfoy is.
"You know about potions, right Malfoy?"
"What an amazing observation Potter. Yes I know about potions." Harry decided to ignore the sarcasm.
"Does Felix Felicis always work?"
"The luck potion? If properly brewed, yes."
I'm sure Slughorn did his job properly, so why did Felix let me come here? When I was getting the memory for D-Dumbedore-Harry almost choked on the thought-it led me straight to where I needed to go.
Malfoy broke into Harry's train of thought, "Something to add?"
Harry must have been imagining it. He sounded...concerned. He Malfoy was perfectly composed-as usual-but Harry swore he could detect worry in his tone. Probably realises he'd have no one to torment if I wasn't around. But now he thought about it, there hadn't been much tormenting over the past few weeks. Not since the end of the war. Sure he'd seen Malfoy in the corridors, caught a smouldering-err I mean angry-glare or two, but there had been no trading insults, no heated confrontations, no nothing. I miss Malfoy. The realisation hit Harry like a bag of Hogwarts A Histories. I miss Draco-goddamn-Malfoy.
So this means I enjoy spending time with Malfoy?
Harry didn't understand why Malfoy was looking at him like nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Well maybe that was a bit of an overstatement, but Harry was so used to feeling nothing but pure, distilled, unadulterated hatred toward Draco Malfoy, that anything else threw him totally out of recognised territory
"Malfoy?" Harry leant against the slightly damp wall.
"Yes Potter."
"What do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts? He slid a little down the wall.
"I don't have a fucking clue."
"Me neither."By this point, both boys had sunk down to the floor and were part lying, part sitting on the cold tiles.
"I thought you wanted to be an Auror." Harry didn't bother to ask how he knew. Almost everything about him had been public knowledge since his first day at Hogwarts.
"I don't know...I mean, I used to but...I had enough of that fighting dark magic crap in the war."
"Malfoy." They were flat on the floor now.
"Yes Potter." Harry heard a rustling of material and Malfoy's leg brushed past his head.
"How are we going to get out of here? No one's come to look for us." He looked up and saw a glint of steel in his companion's stormy grey eyes.
"What a pair we are. The Fucking Boy Who Lived and the disgraced Slytherin Prince. In a closet. Wanna play seven minutes in heaven Potter?" his tone was scornfully mocking, not towards him, but the situation and Harry knew better than to rise to the bait.
"More like 24 hours. We could be stuck in here overnight." Malfoy let out a derisive snort.
"Ever the optimist Potter."
"Yeah well I haven't had the best luck in the past have I?" It was a rhetorical question, but Malfoy looked
him dead I the eye and replied, in a voice too soft to have come from his taunting lips,
"No, you haven't."
"Malfoy?" Harry leant against the slightly damp wall.
"Yes Potter."
"What do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts? He slid a little down the wall.
"I don't have a fucking clue."
"Me neither."By this point, both boys had sunk down to the floor and were part lying, part sitting on the cold tiles.
"I thought you wanted to be an Auror." Harry didn't bother to ask how he knew. Almost everything about me has been public knowledge since my first day at Diagon Alley.
"I don't know...I mean, I used to but...I had enough of that fighting dark magic crap in the war."
"Malfoy." They were flat on the floor now.
"Yes Potter." Harry heard a rustling of material and Malfoy's leg brushed past his head.
"How are we going to get out of here? No one's come to look for us." He sat up and saw a glint of steel in his companion's stormy grey eyes.
"What a pair we are. The Fucking Boy Who Lived and the disgraced Slytherin Prince. In a closet. Wanna play seven minutes in heaven Potter?" his tone was scornfully mocking, not towards him, but the situation and Harry knew better than to rise to the bait.
"More like 24 hours. We could be stuck in here overnight." Malfoy let out a derisive snort.
"Ever the optimist Potter."
"Yeah well I haven't had the best luck in the past have I?" It was a rhetorical question, but Malfoy looked
him in the eye and replied, in a voice too soft to have come from his normally taunting lips,
"No, you haven't."
"Malfoy."
"Yes Potter."
"Why didn't the Felix Felicis work?"
"I don't know."
"Isn't it meant to help you achieve what you want to achieve?"
"It is is." Malfoy's eyes turned slightly glassy and his thoughts seemed to turn inwards. For almost a minute there was silence and both boys absconded into contemplation
"Maybe you wanted to be here?" He sounded bored enough, but did Harry see something like hope in his eyes? No, impossible.
Right, yeah, stuck in a broom closet with my worst enemy. But as the words entered his head, Harry re-evaluated them. Malfoy wasn't his enemy. Voldemort used to be his enemy. But Malfoy was just in the wrong family, the wrong side of history. And none of it was his fault
So instead of saying these words out loud, he said, "Maybe."