Chapter 9: Prejudice and Pride

Harry sat on his bed and stared at the phone in his hand. The curtains were drawn, and everyone else was asleep. He hadn't even turned it on in weeks. His thumb hovered over the power button, began to press down, and then stopped. He seemed incapable of exerting enough pressure to press the damn button down, paralyzed in his resolve.
"Arrggh!" He threw himself down on the bed and fisted his hands into his hair. This was impossible! He had been so resolved when he woke up this morning, his dreams, confusing and disturbing and far too erotic for his current state of mind, had coalesced into a moment of absolute clarity with the golden rays of morning sun. Draco…er…Malfoy, had texted him. Repeatedly. He had tried to continue the conversation. It was the least Harry could do to…to deign to respond. Sure, it might be a trick, probably was. Draco hadn't exactly proven himself to be anything but an asshole in the past weeks, but, the person he had been talking to was there, behind that. Somewhere. And however much he tried to forget about him, Harry missed that person, so much.
He sat up, he gritted his teeth. Enough was enough.
"I'm a Gryffindor. A damned Gryffindor." He pressed the button.
He waited.
A long moment passed before he accepted that there were no messages. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and thought what to do next. What did you say at a time like this? He threw his phone down angrily and got out of bed, dressed in his flying gear, and grabbed his broom. He had Quidditch practice in half an hour, he'd get down there early for some time alone on the pitch. Flying always cleared his head.
He headed down to the quidditch pitch, seeing nobody yet in the air, and was relieved to have it to himself. He turned a bend and saw two heads bent together, the familiar white-blonde hair that he spent far too much time staring at…and red. Red hair. Long, straight red hair. What was Ginny doing talking with Draco Malfoy? Harry stepped back out of sight and peered carefully around the corner at the shocking sight of the two of them, decidedly NOT hexing each other, or insulting each other. Ginny flipped her hair back out of her shoulder and folded her arms, and now he could see her face. She looked thoughtful, considering, and a little amused. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying, but finally, Malfoy extended his hand, and Ginny took it in a quick, firm, handshake, before the two separated, Ginny mounting her broom and heading off toward the far end of the Quidditch pitch, and Malfoy toward Harry, who quickly took several steps back, before turning and resuming his walk to the pitch, attempting an air of surprise when he all but ran into Malfoy.
"Potter." Draco drawled, making the word an insult. Instantly, Harry felt any warmer feelings towards the blond fade into annoyance, and anger. Trust Malfoy to make things difficult. Still, neither of them moved.
"What are you doing out here, Malfoy?"
Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "My my, Potter. You think you own the Quidditch pitch now, too? Such arrogance. Professor Snape may be right about you after all."
Harry recognized the anger spike in himself, and this time, he controlled it, and let it go. Malfoy was doing it on purpose, as usual, as he always did, and this was never going to end, was it? They would continue this stupid rivalry until they DIED, and it was…so stupid. Pointless. He sighed, suddenly weary, and pushed past Draco.
"I see silence is becoming a habit for you, Potter. A little late to finally discover that virtue."
Harry took to the air and left the infuriating Draco Malfoy behind. He flew toward Ginny, who was winding lazily around the hoops.
"Hey, Harry!"
"Hey Gin. What did Malfoy want?
She laughed, dropping half off her broom and rolling as she made a sharp turn around the hoop, before returning her grip to the broom handle and flying to hover beside him.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I just didn't expect you and him to be talking and not…you know…hexing each other." Harry felt increasingly uncomfortable in the face of her obvious amusement.
"Harry," she placed one hand on his shoulder. "Admit it, you're kind of obsessed." And, laughing, she flew off again, just as a few more team mates arrived. It wasn't until Harry was in the shower after an intense practice that he realized she'd never answered his question.

oOo

One week later, Harry received a package with his morning post. He opened the accompanying card, and read:
"This is either an early birthday present or a late one. Take your pick. A little bird told me you have potential." Intrigued, her tore open the package to find…a camera.
"Wow, Harry! I didn't know you were getting a camera! I can give you some tips!" Colin Creevey piped up.
"That's a really nice camera, Harry. I've always been interested in magical photography. There's quite a large section in the library on the topic you should look at." Hermione added.
"You can practice on me agai…uh…you can practice on me, Harry!" Ron said.
Harry turned the camera over in his hand. Who would send him a camera? He looked across the table to where Ginny watched him, her face devoid of any suspicious expression. But no, Ginny didn't have the money for such an obviously expensive gift. This was all very confusing.
Harry hadn't ever really considered photography. He certainly wasn't an artist. That whole business with helping Ron had just been…obvious. But still he let Hermione show him the books on photography, and checked a few likely looking books out.

oOo

Click.
Click click.
"Honestly, Harry, you're getting to be worse than Colin."
"Sorry Ron. It's just, the light…"
"Yeah, yeah."
When he noticed the silence, Ron looked up. "I'm not actually annoyed, Harry, I was just teasing. I'm…I'm glad you have something to…well…you were so quiet at the beginning of this year, you weren't yourself. And then you were happy, and then you were even worse, so distant and everything. I'm really glad you have something that's making you happy, Harry."
Harry looked down at the camera in his hands. Pictures already covered the wall beside his bed. Pictures of his friends, various places around Hogwarts, some artistic close ups. But the reminder of what he was distracting himself from had popped his good mood like a bubble.
"Thanks, Ron. I guess I needed…something. But I'll let you do your homework." With the pretense of a smile, Harry put his camera away, and fished around in his trunk for a moment before heading out of the dorm. He went outside, and sat with his back against a tree, alone, and turned on his phone. Enough was enough. No more distractions, and no more doubts.
'Hello Draco'

oOo

Harry sat for almost an hour before there was a response. He'd already given up, expecting that Malfoy had given up on even checking his phone long since, when his phone vibrated in his hand. He opened it.
'really? REALLY?'
Well that was hardly encouraging. He didn't even know what to reply to that! But he didn't need to. More messages followed.
'I can't believe you!' Bzzzz 'The nerve!' Bzzzz 'Just "Hello Draco" after all this time? Are you kidding me?!'
'I'm sorry. I should have responded sooner. I didn't know what to say.'
'Wow.'
Harry waited for another text but Draco left it at that, forcing Harry to add: 'I said I'm sorry. What did you expect, Malfoy?'
'First it's Draco, now it's Malfoy? Again, I will say, REALLY?!'
'What do you expect?! We hate each other? Why did you even message me, then? When you found out who I am?'
'I told you. Habit.'
'Habit. That's it? I don't believe you.'
'Then why did you message me? Just to argue with me? Don't bother.'
Harry was frantic. No. Draco couldn't be allowed to back out now! Not after he'd finally worked up the nerve to talk! 'I missed the person I was talking to. I admit it. Before I knew it was you.'
'But now you know it's me, and obviously that disturbs you. So, again I ask, why are you messaging me now?'
'So what, you don't have a problem with me? Could have fooled me.'
There was a long time before the next text, time for Harry to get really nervous he'd driven Malfoy away again.
'I don't have a problem with you. You have a problem with me.'
Harry snorted out loud. 'Seriously?! You must be joking.'
'If you only messaged me to fight, we can do that in person, you know. This isn't necessary. I don't need this.'
The message was strangely touching to Harry. Almost an expression of vulnerability, that Draco wouldn't want to fight, wouldn't want a continuation of their usual conflict. Was as tired of this as Harry was.
'Ok. Then what do you suggest?'
'A truce. Nothing has to change. We can pretend we don't even know who the other is. Whatever we say here, doesn't carry over into the real world, and the real world stays there. Anything relevant to who we have been to each other in the past years doesn't invade this conversation.'
It took Harry only a moment to decide.
'Deal.'