Chapter 9: Snot-Tea
"Vani-Tea"
Vanity: is said of someone snobbish, arrogant, haughty.
Harry looked up at the canopy of his bed and groaned. Logic would dictate that he apologize to Malfoy. He didn't want to, but he should. That would be the right thing to do. He knew how it could hurt when someone treated his friends or his family name badly ... He was sincerely trying to avoid doing such things. Should he really apologize though? Maybe Malfoy finally learned something.
He rose with a sigh and dressed in clothing required for the day, giving up a shower since he knew he would need it after detention this morning. He entered the common room and accepted the glass of blue liquid, drinking its contents on the way to the portrait.
He should be angry with the Twins. He knew it. But he could not. He knew they had chosen this tea thinking it would cause no harm. For once, they did not think to make others suffer. He grunted again and ran a hand through his hair, by disturbing small tweaks.
Harry entered the potions class and rolled his eyes. It seemed that Snape was going to be late. He leaned against the back wall, not far from where the twins were watching disillusioned.
Exactly two seconds before they are late, Draco and Severus entered quietly and elegantly into the room. "Just in time," Harry whispered softly.
"Did you say something, Potter?"Snape asked in a sniff.
"No sir," said Harry drawled, "nothing at all."
Snape narrowed his eyes and looked wickedly Harry. The boy laughed at him. He could literally feel it. Snape hated seeing her eyes like that: cool, narrow. This air must never appear in his eyes. They should be smiling, loving and attentive.
"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, this morning, you will both clean and store reserve supplies. It will be finished or neither of you will take breakfast. Is it understood? "He asked coldly.
"Yes, sir," they replied.
"At work then!" he ordered, watching them enter the room supplies to begin their task.
There was something strange and shifted when the golden boy of Gryffindor spoke in such a way. He spoke just like a Malfoy: with a superior, arrogant and self-satisfied tone. Malfoy frowned thoughtfully. Does it sound the same way when he spoke? Does everything he said to his interlocutors give the impression that they were less than dirt under his shoe?
He shook his head slightly; there was no need to consider reflections as useless.
"Potter works," Draco said dryly.
Harry did not answer - he was completely unaware of the presence of Draco. Harry began his work calmly and methodically by banishing dust and cobwebs of the room. When they had gone, he began to sort the ingredients in alphabetical order.
Draco clenched his fists on the other side of the storage space. Potter how dare he ignore it? It was Draco Malfoy! Nobody ignored Draco Malfoy! "Potter!"No response. "Potter!"Still no response. "Damn, Potter! Stop ignoring me! "
Harry turned up on site to deal with an enraged Malfoy. "Oh? Did you say something? "Laughed Harry.
Draco's face flushed with humiliation. Was this how it felt when we ignored people? Was this what we felt when we were looked down upon? If it was this way he hated it.
"Why do you ignore me?"He asked angrily.
"Why not?"Harry asked condescendingly.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," he spat.
"So what? Why does that interest me? I'm Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world. There are plenty of pure-blood and rotten with bad manners like you and there is only one me, "Harry drawled.
Draco felt his whole body frozen in place. It was not Potter. It could not be Potter. He did not speak like that; he did not say things like that. As far as he loathed admitting it, Potter was a good person. The Potter he knew was unfailing in politeness, he was more courageous as it should and more imprudent than healthy. It hurt to know that Potter thought that about him.
He felt insecure burst in his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Of pain - he felt pain and she continued to grow. Was it that the others felt when he spoke to them this way? Does his amusement hurt them? Do his words were rooted in their minds and taunted again and again, as did for him the words of Harry?
Draco resumed his organizational work of the ingredients, moving monotonically, with shelf.
It was bad. It was all bad.
It made no sense. It was just what he had learned. And one of the first things he learned was that the Malfoys were higher. But were they? The blood came to mind, but for the first time in his life, this response exercised no control over the mind of Draco. Granger was not a pure-blood and she had better grades than him in certain matters. Potter was not a pure-blood, but he beat Draco Quidditch to each party.
So what the Malfoys were they superior? The money perhaps? They had more wealth than the Weasleys - but the mass of ragged red seemed to smile all the time. Why it was not he happy all the time? The money could it bring happiness?
Time passed without noticing, and they finished the job they were assigned.
"What does it do to you?"Harry asked; a slight grin on his face.
"What? What did what?"Draco asked in return.
"When I talked about your mother like she was a muggle, what did it do to you?"Malice in Harry's voice had faded and only the curiosity remained.
"It's wrong," Draco spat instantly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I know," he says with a drawl. "But anyway, what does it do?"
Draco looked at the floor when he felt pain flare up inside him. His gray eyes twinkled. It hurt.
Even if it was false, it hurt. Understanding appeared in his eyes and he looked up to meet those of Potter. Harry sniffed although smiled inwardly. Draco had finally understood, although it was only a little.
Harry then went out of the closet of the room without waiting for approval from Rogue. He had done what he had to do.
Fred and George had observed the interaction very closely. They had taken a new page of notes. Vani-tea drinker results in the snobbish and arrogant attitude. But surprisingly it increases its awareness and emotional understanding. This also increases the level of tact the consumer. Conclusion: a success.
