"You don't think Harry Potter is the heir of Slytherin?" Harry asked, carefully placing Goyle's meaty hands in his lap. He wondered how much time they had left on the polyjuice potion.
"Of course not," Malfoy snorted, plopping down on the couch with a quiet 'oomf'. Harry wondered at how relaxed the other boy looked. "Just because I don't like him doesn't make him a psychopath."
Harry shifted uncomfortably; suddenly, it felt a little embarrassing that they'd spent a month brewing a potion to ask Malfoy these questions. In that one sentence, Malfoy had basically told them that he thought the attacker was crazy, and he probably didn't approve if he called them a 'psychopath'. Malfoy was innocent.
And he believed in Harry, which a significant portion of the student population did not. Even many of whom had worshiped the ground he walked on just last year.
"Who do you think did it then?" Ron demanded. "Was it you? Do you speak Parseltongue?"
"How would I know?" Malfoy retorted with a scowl. "And Crabbe, we grew up together. Don't you think I would've mentioned if I could speak to snakes or was related to Slytherin?"
"You could've kept it a secret," Harry pointed out hesitantly, trying to maintain their cover.
"Goyle, unlike Potter, I would not be ashamed by the ability to speak Parseltongue," Malfoy snapped. "Why does being a Parselmouth make you the next Dark Lord, anyway? It's just a language. No one says such things about German, and that's what Grindelwald spoke."
Harry's mouth dropped open, before snapping it shut again. He felt an embarrassed flush go to his cheeks; from what Ron and Hermione had told him, he'd been terrified of being a Parselmouth, but when Malfoy spoke, he felt rather stupid.
"So you didn't open the Chamber of Secrets?" Ron pressed, while Harry fidgeted, sneaking glances at Malfoy.
"No," Malfoy said slowing, sitting up and eying them with suspicion. "Why would I?"
"You hate muggleborns! Your father-" Ron started, and Malfoy groaned in frustration.
"Oh, for the- what is wrong with you two? You're acting very strange," Malfoy said, standing up, clearly to make his leave.
"Wait," Harry blurted, unsure what made him speak up. This whole conversation felt like it'd turned his world inside out. "You- Why did you want to be friends with m- with Harry Potter the first day on the train?"
"How do you know about that?" Malfoy demanded, angry. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. He's a bully and thinks that he can call my father a Death Eater when my father is innocent. He was forced under the Imperius Curse, everyone knows that! And even if he wasn't, where does Potter get off accusing me of crimes my father supposedly did?"
Harry's stomach sank. He remembered that day. He'd been so excited to have a friend for the first time, and so eager to prove Ron he could live up to his title of The-Boy-Who-Lived. He'd had no reason not to believe Ron when he'd said Malfoy was no good, and he hadn't even known what Death Eater meant when he'd started chanting it. But he'd joined in, because he had a friend, he was famous instead of being called a freak, and it had felt so good to have power over someone else for once instead of submitting to Dudley's whims.
"Your father bought his way out of Azkaban, everyone knows that," Ron shouted, incensed, and Harry looked at him in horror. Crabbe would never say that, and his hair-
"Weasley," Malfoy said, disbelief briefly overriding his previous outrage. Crabbe's hair was starting to redden and freckles splattered his face; coupled with Ron's outburst, it was fairly obvious. "Your hair- And Potter, I presume. How did you manage this-?!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
"Run," Ron yelled, and they sprinted for the exit of the common room.
They escaped, but when Ron and Hermione wanted to discuss new plans for catching the culprit, and Ron insisted that Malfoy was acting suspicious, Harry couldn't bring himself to join them. Excusing himself to hide behind the curtains of his bed, he pulled the blankets high over his head.
Harry imagined everyone assuming he was just like the Dursleys because he was related to them, and hated himself.
ooo
So maybe Harry had messed up. But it was no problem, he reassured himself. He'd fix it. He was the Chosen One! And since Malfoy wasn't a Voldemort supporter, he had to be impressed that Harry had defeated him. Twice. And the first time he'd been a baby!
"Hi, Malfoy," Harry greeted him breathlessly, dashing up to catch up with him on their way to Potions. He tapped him on the shoulder, and Malfoy jumped, before eying him suspiciously. He didn't say anything, and Harry fumbled, looking for a topic.
"I thought maybe we could be lab partners today," Harry said, struck by inspiration. Malfoy received excellent grades, second only to Hermione; she'd even grumbled on several occasions when he scored higher. Being lab partners would help him escape Snape's wrath, and it would give him a chance to win Malfoy over.
"I don't know who the Heir is, Potter," Malfoy said irritably, quickening his pace. "So don't think being friendly will get you anything. And if this is you 'keeping an eye' on me because you think I'm the Heir, shove off."
"No, no, I know it's not you," Harry said quickly. "We made a mistake, and I just wanted to make sure there's no hard feelings."
"What do you care? Get lost, Potter."
"Malfoy... Draco. Can I call you Draco? Look, I just meant, if people don't want to be your friend because they think you support Voldemort, I thought we could be friends," Harry proposed, trying to project confidence. "If the Boy-Who-Lived is your friend, you couldn't be a Death Eater, right? Then we could call it even, with the whole... er... misunderstanding."
That sounded good. Slytherins liked deals, right? Harry had the situation under control. This was nothing compared to Voldemort or trolls, really. Draco stared at him incredulously, and Harry picked at the hem of his robes nervously.
"Shove off, Potter," Draco finally told him angrily, pushing him to the side as he entered the Potion's classroom. "You're the only reason they're calling me a Death Eater in the first place."
Due to Draco's quick pace, they were the first to the room. This meant that Draco couldn't stop Harry from taking the seat next to him.
"That's why I'm going to make it right," Harry said with as much assurance as he could muster. With his fame in the wizarding world, he'd found that feigning confidence was just as good as having it, and bluffing would almost always get him what he wanted.
"Ugh," Draco muttered, but class started, and Harry sat contentedly in his seat. At Ron's scowl Harry gave him a chipper wave.
ooo
"It's just recon," Harry explained to Ron, remembering Draco's words. It wasn't true, but he didn't want a fight with Ron. This was easier. "Didn't you want to keep an eye on him?"
"I don't like it," Ron said. "If you're hanging out with a Death Eater, people are going to be even more sure that you're the Heir of Slytherin."
"I don't think he's a Voldemort supporter," Harry finally admitted hesitantly. "He denied it pretty strongly."
"He always pays attention in class and never causes any trouble," Hermione added, as though high grades were a strong indicator of character.
"I don't like it," Ron repeated. Harry shrugged uneasily, but the argument ended there, so he decided it was okay to continue his efforts, even if he hadn't been honest about the reasons behind them.
ooo
As second year progressed, Harry would admit, if only to himself, that he really, really liked Draco.
He could tell that Draco had warmed up to him as well. He helped him with potions, they worked on homework outside of class sometimes, and they'd even gone flying a few times.
"Oh, shut up," Draco finally snapped, and Harry startled, before realizing that Draco was talking to the people whispering behind them. They'd been discussing the rumors that Harry was the next Dark Lord; the usual. Harry had tuned it out, somewhat used to the treatment by now, although he didn't enjoy it.
"You want to start something, Malfoy?" one of the boys demanded, a second year who Harry didn't recognize.
"He's twelve," Draco snapped, and Harry recalled another argument, only a year ago, where Draco had used a similar attack. Harry flushed a bit, though, because this time, Draco was defending him. "He's not going to be going around petrifying students!"
"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you? You're his accomplice," another second year accused, crossing her arms. "Your dad supported the last Dark Lord, you're getting ready to support the new one!"
"You're all a bunch of idiots, aren't you?" Draco asked incredulously, throwing his hands up. He reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, to start dragging him in the direction of their next class. "Come on, Harry. No use wasting our time on these lumps."
"I'm coming," Harry said, unable to help the wide smile that crossed his face. Draco had called him Harry.
ooo
"Harry has better things to do than be holed up here in the library with you," Ron snapped, in one of his frequent arguments with Draco. Hermione hovered awkwardly behind him. She'd been released a couple days ago from the hospital wing, finally cured from the petrification of the basilisk.
"Oh, Ron, we can hang out with him later," Hermione said with a sigh. "Just because you're jealous-"
"I'm not jealous," Ron shouted, while Harry shifted uncomfortably. He never knew what to do in Draco's and Ron's fights; he usually didn't agree with Ron, since the boy constantly picked a fight without good reason, but taking Draco's side made Ron explode with fury, and often worsened the situation.
Harry suspected Hermione was right, and that Ron was jealous, given his previous undisputed status as Harry Potter's Best Friend. Still, pointing it out only aggravated Ron more, and Harry sighed internally at Hermione's efforts to 'help'.
"Look, Ron," Harry tried weakly, only to be cut off.
"Why are you still hanging out with him, anyway?" Ron asked angrily. "We caught the Heir of Slytherin. You don't need to keep an eye on him anymore."
Harry winced. Many times, he'd placated Ron by telling him that he only spent time with Draco to 'keep an eye on him, just in case'. He hadn't quite worked up the nerve to tell Ron otherwise, although he thought Ron suspected, but for him to bring it up in front of Draco-
"What?" Draco asked flatly, voice cracking like a whip. Ron clenched his fists, face red, and Hermione watched with wide eyes. Harry had no idea what to do.
"Er," Hermione tried, after several drawn out, silent awkward seconds. "That is, we didn't really think-"
"You said you were only hanging out with him to spy on him," Ron plowed on, and Harry waved his hands helplessly.
"That's not-" he tried, but when Ron's face was the image of pure fury, he found it extremely difficult to tell his best friend he'd been lying just to placate him.
Harry feared Ron would hate him, ditch him for choosing to spend time voluntarily with a slimy Slytherin, and everyone else would follow. Harry would be the freak again, even after he'd finally gotten back his status as the Chosen One, the boy who'd faced a basilisk and won. Harry couldn't go back to that-
Belatedly, he realized that while he'd been worrying about Ron, Draco had been watching him expectantly, only for his expression to darken as Harry failed to deny the accusation.
Harry floundered for a second too long, and Draco finally snapped, standing abruptly and grabbing his bag in the same motion.
"Draco," Harry tried, stumbling to his feet and grabbing the boy's arm. Draco shook it off violently. When Draco was truly mad, Harry noticed, he tended to choose flight over fight. This was no exception.
"Leave me alone, Potter," Draco spat, bottom lip trembling, and ran for the door; Harry had the sickening feeling that the boy was about to cry, and didn't want to do so in front of Ron- in front of him-
"Wait," Harry said desperately, starting after him, but Ron grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing? It was just the truth," Ron said stubbornly.
"I- I have to catch him," Harry said, breaking free from the grasp and darting for the door too. He hesitated for just a moment, glancing back, worried that his friends were angry. Ron did, in fact, look upset, but Hermione just looked anxious.
He ran out to the hallway, ignoring Madame Pince's scolding for running in the library, but Draco was already out of sight. Harry took a guess that Draco had headed towards the Slytherin commons, and took off in that direction, but questioning the Bloody Baron at the entrance to the dormitory revealed that Draco had not come back.
Harry searched around, but he ultimately failed. Draco was nowhere to be found.
ooo
Harry, too late, finally admitted to Ron and Hermione that he hadn't befriended Draco with the intention to spy on him, and he actually wanted to stay friends with him. He blurted it all out in a rush, staring down at his knees while he sat tense on the couch in the Gryffindor commons, voice trembling with nerves. He waited for the accusations of freak, loser...
Ron wasn't happy, but it wasn't as bad as Harry had feared.
"I don't see what's so great about him," Ron muttered, only to wince as Hermione kicked him in the shins. With a practiced air, he managed reluctantly, "...But if that's what you want, we support you."
"Maybe you could invite him with us next time we go visit Hagrid," Hermione suggested helpfully, and Harry's shoulders drooped in relief. "Ron and I were talking, and he said he'd try to get along with him better, and the best way to do that is to learn more about him."
"I'd like that," Harry finally said quietly, fidgeting shyly.
And so it was thanks to Draco that Harry learned an important lesson: his friends—or Ron and Hermione, at least—could be counted on for more than just adventures battling basilisks or two-faced professors.
Unfortunately, the lesson came too late to salvage his friendship with Draco before the school year ended. Harry went back to the Dursley's despondent, even more miserable than his usual dread of spending several months with his relatives. Draco wouldn't answer any of his letters.
Still, in person, surely Draco would have to forgive him. Harry just had to be patient, and wait for the start of third year.
ooo