Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. Plus, I'm not making money off of them. So there. You can't sue me.
Harry, hearing the noise of rustling grass, looks behind him to see Draco crossing the field towards him. The silver haired boy looks out of place in the sunlight because his skin is so pale. Like white marble.
Oh, great. Just what he needed. A few of Draco's insults to get the day under way. Harry really doesn't need this. He turns away.
But to his surprise, Draco says nothing, and simply stands beside him. They don't even look at each other. They stand there facing the couple in the distance for quite awhile.
The wind gently caresses the two boys, and softly lifts up the petals of some daisy to swirl around them. Just to Harry's left, on the side opposite of Draco, the field abruptly ends in a cliff. Underneath, the shores of lake lap loudly against the rocks. The local birds ride the thermals created by the cliff, crying something of the sound like seagulls.
The couple slowly walks away from under the oak tree, hand in hand. Making their way towards the dark castle, which seems out of place on the sunny landscape, they disappear from view.
Draco still hasn't said anything, and Harry wonders what he wants.
Draco's mind is in an uproar. He can't think of anything to say.
He doesn't really know why he came over hear in the first place. Only that Harry was alone, he was alone, and logic told him that being next to anybody, even someone you dislike, was better than being alone.
But standing next to someone in a weird silence comes awfully close.
In an attempt to get his mind in gear, Draco bends down and picks a daisy. Its white petals are bent and in disarray. He rubs his fingers together, causing the flower to spin. The force of the spin proves too much for the petals, and they break away, carried away by the wind. Mother always liked white flowers...
"Lovely day, isn't it?" He says, not looking directly at Harry.
Harry blinks. That has to be the nicest thing Draco Malfoy has ever said to him. Draco usually possesses a drawling voice with a ripping edge that has the ability to totally mangle the object of his insults' ego. But now, he voice is quite soft, somewhat nervous, like one harsh word would blow him away.
This must be some sort of a plot.
"Look, Draco, if you want something, just come and say it. The sooner you do, the sooner you can leave."
Draco starts and drops what's left of the broken flower. "But I... I didn't mean... you see..." he stutters. "I just felt... you know, you seemed..."
This is the first time Harry has ever seen Draco stutter. It proves a very odd experience. Draco can't even look him in the face.
The bell rings, tearing through the minds of both students, reminding where they are. Harry's next class is Spell Casting in Weird Places in the high eastern tower. He has to hurry to get there in time.
Without even thinking he begins to run towards the castle, trampling grass and daises in his way. For a second he stops, and looks back at the silver haired boy. Was that an attempt at conversation? A token of friendship?
But doesn't Draco hate him?
Memories flow through his mind. All those insults, thrown at him, Ron, and Hermione. Teasing him about his dead parents. About anything at all that would provoke a reaction.
Harry turns away and runs toward his next class, without looking back.
Draco stands alone, in a field of daises.
@---%------------
Okay, you know Draco's first attempt at friendship is going to go horribly wrong. Considering how much of an ass he's been to Harry, you can't blame the guy for being unfriendly. I've always seen Draco as a somewhat fragile and sensitive boy, so getting rebuked by Harry a second time would break him. I do promise, however, the next chapter will start a rather progressing relationship between the two. Please review?
I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. Plus, I'm not making money off of them. So there. You can't sue me.
Harry, hearing the noise of rustling grass, looks behind him to see Draco crossing the field towards him. The silver haired boy looks out of place in the sunlight because his skin is so pale. Like white marble.
Oh, great. Just what he needed. A few of Draco's insults to get the day under way. Harry really doesn't need this. He turns away.
But to his surprise, Draco says nothing, and simply stands beside him. They don't even look at each other. They stand there facing the couple in the distance for quite awhile.
The wind gently caresses the two boys, and softly lifts up the petals of some daisy to swirl around them. Just to Harry's left, on the side opposite of Draco, the field abruptly ends in a cliff. Underneath, the shores of lake lap loudly against the rocks. The local birds ride the thermals created by the cliff, crying something of the sound like seagulls.
The couple slowly walks away from under the oak tree, hand in hand. Making their way towards the dark castle, which seems out of place on the sunny landscape, they disappear from view.
Draco still hasn't said anything, and Harry wonders what he wants.
Draco's mind is in an uproar. He can't think of anything to say.
He doesn't really know why he came over hear in the first place. Only that Harry was alone, he was alone, and logic told him that being next to anybody, even someone you dislike, was better than being alone.
But standing next to someone in a weird silence comes awfully close.
In an attempt to get his mind in gear, Draco bends down and picks a daisy. Its white petals are bent and in disarray. He rubs his fingers together, causing the flower to spin. The force of the spin proves too much for the petals, and they break away, carried away by the wind. Mother always liked white flowers...
"Lovely day, isn't it?" He says, not looking directly at Harry.
Harry blinks. That has to be the nicest thing Draco Malfoy has ever said to him. Draco usually possesses a drawling voice with a ripping edge that has the ability to totally mangle the object of his insults' ego. But now, he voice is quite soft, somewhat nervous, like one harsh word would blow him away.
This must be some sort of a plot.
"Look, Draco, if you want something, just come and say it. The sooner you do, the sooner you can leave."
Draco starts and drops what's left of the broken flower. "But I... I didn't mean... you see..." he stutters. "I just felt... you know, you seemed..."
This is the first time Harry has ever seen Draco stutter. It proves a very odd experience. Draco can't even look him in the face.
The bell rings, tearing through the minds of both students, reminding where they are. Harry's next class is Spell Casting in Weird Places in the high eastern tower. He has to hurry to get there in time.
Without even thinking he begins to run towards the castle, trampling grass and daises in his way. For a second he stops, and looks back at the silver haired boy. Was that an attempt at conversation? A token of friendship?
But doesn't Draco hate him?
Memories flow through his mind. All those insults, thrown at him, Ron, and Hermione. Teasing him about his dead parents. About anything at all that would provoke a reaction.
Harry turns away and runs toward his next class, without looking back.
Draco stands alone, in a field of daises.
@---%------------
Okay, you know Draco's first attempt at friendship is going to go horribly wrong. Considering how much of an ass he's been to Harry, you can't blame the guy for being unfriendly. I've always seen Draco as a somewhat fragile and sensitive boy, so getting rebuked by Harry a second time would break him. I do promise, however, the next chapter will start a rather progressing relationship between the two. Please review?