The Final Battle
Disclaimer: Do I look like the owner of one of the most influential and illustrious books ever written in history? No, I don't think so either. J.K Rowling and several publishers own the rights to Harry Potter etc. etc. As if you didn't already know. All hail Rowling! This is just my feeble attempt to write a HP story while book 5 is still nowhere in sight. Roll on Vol. 5! Various quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and the Draco Trilogy by the infamous Cassie Claire can be found in this chapter. The chapter title is also from Buffy.
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, with the help and support of the other houses. Set on Harry's 7th year in Hogwarts, he must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help. In this chapter, we find more about those days that Hermione was talking about by means of flashbacks. We see Ron's standpoint on the attack and everything else. Draco, Harry and Ginny finally have roles.
Pairings: they're complicated, really. H/hr hr/r hr/d d/g h/g no slash
Spoilers: For all four books. And also there's this mild scene that I borrowed from the story Draco Veritas from Cassie Claire as I mentioned on the first chapter. I hope you all don't mind.
The Final Battle
Chapter Two: Truce
Ron Weasley staggered backwards, his hands tightly pressed against his stomach. He, and like all of the other students in the great hall, was withering in pain. The impact of Voldemort's mighty hex was immediate and powerful. Up until now, he still could not believe what had happened over the past few minutes.
He watched in awe and terror as the Death Eaters strode through the great hall, forming a circle of death surrounding the students and teachers, blocking all the passages in and out of the hall by positioning themselves around by the aisles.
He saw, feeling like a ton of metal had just pressed over his gut, Voldemort, the evil Dark Lord himself walk in the hall, making every students alike gasp in horror and fear. Nobody knew what to do at the moment the feared Dark Lord walked in the great hall, like a king preparing to take over a kingdom that was originally his. He strode in with great confidence and an almighty stature that frightened both students and teachers alike.
Peculiarly, the only thing that he can think of was Hermione Granger. His dear and beautiful Hermione. She was the one who first entered his mind the moment terror and shock overcame every single person in the great hall. He was worried about her, even after those many awful things that had happened between them and their friendship. He still cared for her greatly even though he knows that she would never feel the same way about him. She would never feel the way he feels about her right now. With his hot blood surging through his veins every bloody time that he get just a little glimpse of her bushy dark brown hair and her exquisite eyes.
He frankly didn't know what had caused this indescribable feelings surging into his brain. She was his best friend and he was hers. They could never be more than that and Ron knew that painful truth. He's not stupid, he knows how this ill world works. You can never fall in love with your best friend because it always ends badly. Things would just only be too complicated for him to even register to his brain and God knows that he doesn't want their almost perfect friendship ending just because of his own stupidity for not knowing what is right and what is obviously wrong.
"Hope you like my little presentation and demo of what I can really do to you all if I wish." Voldemort announced a cold and cruel smile forming and the base of his thin, pale lips. "Consider it as a little sign that I do reign supreme right at this very moment, and you are required to please me and obey my every command."
The Death Eaters smirked in their own vindictive ways watching in great delight what was happening all around them.
"I hope you can get my little message through you thick wizarding moronic heads." Voldemort said. "I hope I made myself clear, my dear Dumbledore."
As Ron could see, Dumbledore is just mildly affected by the impenetrable hex that Voldemort has set on them. If it was because the Dark Lord himself purposely excluded the headmaster from the curse or if just that Dumbledore is just too strong for the hex to work on him, Ron might never know.
"You are making a very big mistake here, Voldemort." Dumbledore replied. "Justice will still prevail. Trust me on that."
Voldemort just looked mildly amused.
"All those people you killed, all those lives you destroyed," the famous, but dangerous when put to the test headmaster, said. "Will all come back to you in their own special ways. You will not reign supreme in the wizarding world without the deadly circumstances. There will come a time, Voldemort. There will come a time. It may not be today or tomorrow. You can even kill us all right at this very moment, but what good will it do to you?"
"You are full of gibberish, Dumbledore. You know that?" the feared Dark Lord replied. "Your mouth is moving and there are sounds coming out but I could not comprehend anything with even a remote sense to what you are saying."
Ron found it peculiar that a Dark Lord even has his sense of humor, how ever sick it may be. But in his opinion, it even makes him the more annoying and infuriating to deal with.
It was obvious that Dumbledore was feeling the same way.
"Once I kill that Potter boy, full power will be bestowed on me once again, and I will rule the whole wizarding world and even kill all those stupid and dim-witted muggles roaming around their world and I too will rule them. The mud-bloods will be gone like bubble and only the pure blooded wizards faithful to me will have my mercy of being alive." Voldemort said, the whole great hall shaking in fear and morification at the Dark Lord's voice and words. "You can trust me on THAT, Dumbledore. That I surely assure you."
Still withering in pain, Ron wondered if he would ever see a day as bright as the day they were on the Quidditch field, just practicing and laughing with his most trusted friends, as Harry talked to them about the new statistics and strategies of the game. How he wished that he could replay that pure moment again right now with his stomach feels like it's being stabbed by hundreds of thick sharp knives.
But of course, as ever, that stupid Malfoy had to wreck his almost perfect scene once again.
===***===***===***===
Harry, Ron and Hermione trooped down to where the rest of the team waited at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. Seamus, who had been made a Chaser just that year, was already there, standing next to Ginny and the third Chaser, Elizabeth Thomas, Dean's younger sister. A little ways away stood the Creevey brothers, who, Hermione suspected, had been made Beaters primarily because they were brothers, and there was a certain superstition regarding the luckiness of having siblings team up as Beaters. They greeted Harry and the others with a cheerful waving of broomsticks.
Hermione dropped back towards the stands, content to watch, her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages on hand in case Harry needed it for reference material. Not that he ever did. He had been nervous about being made team captain, but he needn't have been; he turned out to be as good at strategizing as he was at flying. Hermione suspected he kept an elaborate mental map of the Quidditch field in his head and referred to it at will.
"All right," he was saying now, consulting some notes he had scribbled on a bit of parchment, "I think this time we should work on coordinating better, and telegraphing our moves less. Seamus, you need to be quicker on the turns. Elizabeth, I've got an idea -"
"Actually, I've got an idea," interrupted a drawling voice. "Why don't you all just bugger off, since you've got no business being here in the first place?"
It was Draco, of course, in green Quidditch robes, surrounded by the rest of his team. He was flanked by his Chasers: Blaise Zabini, Malcolm Baddock, and Graham Pritchard. Behind him, looking menacing, were the Beaters: Tess Hammond and Milicent Bulstrode, the largest and ugliest girls in school. Bringing up the rear was Dex Flint, a sharp-faced but handsome fifth-year who played as Keeper.
Draco reached out a lazy hand, took the parchment out of Harry's grip, looked at it with mild disinterest, and let it drop into the snow. " We have the Quidditch pitch booked for practice right now," he said, in a voice like syrup poured over broken glass. "I know you Gryffindors aren't the brightest lot, but I did at least think you could tell time properly."
Harry didn't change expression. "We signed up for this practice last week," he said flatly. "Go and check the book."
"Yes, I saw that," said Draco, lazily twirling his broomstick. If he'd had a moustache, Hermione was sure he would have twirled that too. "But I must confess that when I approached Madam Hooch, she was a little bit distracted and busy with something that she just handed me the log book for me to sign in it myself. She didn't even notice when I wrote right over your name. You know, you've got a very girly signature, Potter. You should work on that."
"You dishonest creep," said Elizabeth, her two pigtails trembling with rage.
"I'm a Slytherin," said Draco, giving her a smile that would have melted solid steel, although it didn't have much effect on Elizabeth. "It's in the job description."
"This trick won't work more than once, Malfoy," said Harry, his green eyes narrowed. "Madam Hooch won't trust you again."
"It only needs to work once." Draco shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Potter. Where were you when they were handing out brains?"
"I don't know," said Harry, his voice dripping acid. "I'm afraid I accidentally got in line for 'shred of moral decency' instead."
"It must have been quite a long line," said Draco. "Apparently you were also too late for 'good looks', 'fashion sense', and 'witty repartee.'"
Ron started forward. Harry hauled him back by the collar of his robes. "I think you've been spending too much time in that dungeon, Malfoy," Ron spat, struggling to get free of Harry's grip. "The lack of natural light must have rotted your brain."
"Oh, right, because you lot live in a tower," said Draco, his voice filled with heavy sarcasm. "A great, big, pointy, thrusting tower. Just the right place for little boys who maybe feel a little.... inadequate? Overcompensating, are we?"
Harry hit him. Draco staggered rather theatrically back into the arms of his teammates, then straightened up and started for Harry, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he went.
Hermione closed her book and sighed, bored and irritated. Oh for goodness' sake, she thought. Not this again.
"Malfoy, you selfless inconsiderable git!" Harrly bellowed, staggering back when Draco's fist connected with his now sore cheek. "What is your problem? Or are you really just purposely trying to make my life a living hell. Because I've got news for you, it already is."
"Don't be so dense, Potter." He said, as a cold cruel but briefly amusing to look at smirk manifested itself on Draco's beautiful lips. The kind of smirk that Hogwart's girls, whatever level or house that they may be in go all gooey with. "Just fulfilling my responsibility of making sure that you Gryffindor lot, wouldn't be oh-so proud of your none existing accomplishments and your supposed to be contemporary wit. Because, newsflash! Just be honest and admit that you all blokes graduated with a major in 'dumb planning' from the Idiot's University. And Potter here, sat at the feet of the master and learned astonishingly well how to plan dumbly. So we wouldn't be surprised at all if we defeat you guys in the upcoming Quidditch match."
"Don't worry, Malfoy" Harry said, with visible annoyance in his voice. "I'm sure that nobody will really be that flabbergasted when you guys are AGAIN proven to be wrong by us winning, not only the Quidditch match but the House Cup as well. I think we already proved that for the past six years."
"So, you think you're all smart and superior now, don't you?" Draco said, looking mildly pleased that his mere presence is affecting his counterparts. "Ok, let's just see about that."
Draco suddenly threw himself upon Harry, and because Harry wasn't expecting the sudden attack, was brought to the ground by the force of the strike.
===***===***===***===
"Potter, wait up!" Harry heard a voice call from behind him as he walked bruised and a little tired and irritated, away from the Quidditch field that lazy afternoon after the ramble that had just happened, free from all his teammates.
Apparently, the fight that he and that stupid Malfoy git was having got a little too loud, both because of the cheers, insults and the angry shouts of their own rival teammates and their furious and mean comebacks that Professor Mc Gonagall heard their incoherent bellowing and finally broke the pointless and silly argument off. The two boys were pointlessly questioned by the strict Transfiguration teacher, both of them saying that the other started it, which Professor Mc Gonagall obviously did not believe or just too busy to care about anything else. But fortunately, she just let them go with just a warning, and both of the team's supposedly Quidditch practice was cancelled, due to Mc Gonagall's fury and the student's fear of the spectacled and stern teacher.
Harry turned around, already knowing who's idiotic mouth the usual self- considerate voice is from. After all, just a few minutes ago, he was fighting for his life against the owner of the voice's lethal paws. He suddenly regretted leaving his teammates to go for a nice long walk by himself.
He unsurprisingly saw Draco Malfoy coming over to him, his broomstick still clasped on his left hand. Apparently, he too had stayed behind when the Slytherin team went sulkily away, out from the Quidditch field, still disappointed that they didn't get to practice that afternoon. Why he as coming after Harry, he could only guess.
"What do you want, Malfoy?!" Harry impatiently asked. He definitely has no time for the blond git's stupid ramblings.
"Don't be so rude, Potter." Draco calmly said, obviously taking his time in diminishing the space between them. "I'm only here to help you after all."
"What?!" Harry asked, incredulously. What did Malfoy ate that morning? Maybe he had too much Pumpkin Juice that his head is going a little nutty. "What can you help me with, Malfoy?"
"Don't judge me immediately, Potter! Don't think of me as just a stupid, selfish git." Draco suddenly bellowed, that Harry unconsciously jumped back now that they're only inches away from each other. "I know that people only think of me as that little spoiled rich boy that has everything from looks and money to indescribable and incomparable wit."
This had caused Harry to redden from a bit of anger. It had never failed to surprise him of how Malfoy can go from self-depriving himself to glorifying his good fortune.
"But I'm definitely not stupid and I know things that many people don't, and the ones who does wished they hadn't. I've seen things that others die from being drowned by the terrible view of the suffocating environment of endless and sudden deaths. I am more than what you and the others think of me and I know things that I reckon that you should know."
"As much as I appreciate your unsurpassed and heart-wrenching speech," Harry said, sarcastically. "Frankly, I'm just relieved that you're finally getting to the point. whatever it is."
"Don't mock me, you inadequate slug!" Draco threateningly said, his voice dropping down to almost a whisper. "Remember that I'm the one here who's doing you a favor."
"A favor?" Harry asked, still not convinced that Draco was up to anything good or at least placidly important. "And what might that be?"
"He's coming, Potter." Draco said. The slight fear and menace clear in his syrupy voice.
He waited for Harry's reaction, which betrays unfortunately nothing.
"Don't tell me you don't know. you don't feel it every minute and second you walk through this enchanted grounds."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry answered, somewhat defiantly.
"Oh, come on Potter!" Draco exclaimed, raising his arms into the air in frustration. He is really getting fed up with the endless circles that their conversation is going to. "Don't pretend and hide from the truth! You're the boy-who-lived for goodness sakes! Don't pretend that you have not been suffering from that skull wrenching little scar-aches that you have been suffering from every night since the term started!"
Harry looked aghast. But he did not say anything.
"You know what those headaches mean. but yet you choose to ignore these warnings. SIGNS! About what's going to happen. who else is going to die."
"SHUT UP! Just, be quiet!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to wince and step back a little. "Don't act like you know what's happening with me and how difficult my suppose to be perfect life is, with my popularity and fame and all that! Don't act as if you know me, Malfoy. don't pretend to know what exactly I am feeling right now. Because you don't."
It took a moment for Draco to retaliate from Harry's outburst, but surprisingly, he just smirked his usual grating expression and calmly said. "So that's what you're going to do?"
Harry looked at him in the eye for the first time since they had been having this conversation.
"That's what you're going to do, you're going to let them get taken by the enemy. you're going to let them die."
"Why do you care, Malfoy?! What do you want me to do, anyway?" Harry suddenly cut him off. His own anger and his own fear is slowly eating him away, every minute and every morning that he felt that his head might explode from the indescribable pain that he had to endure every time he woke up once again from another terrifying nightmare, concerning the Dark Lord.
"Why do I care? Hmmm. that's actually a good question for a. you know. dim Gryffindor like you." Draco said, still as composed as ever. A contrary to what Harry was suffering from.
Harry let the insult go unnoticed, for he was feeling weaker and more drained than ever.
"You going to answer the question?"
"Frankly, I have no idea." Draco finally answered after a long pause for thought. "Maybe I just care a little more than you all think."
Another long silence followed but somehow, the awkwardness and the intimidation were drained from their discussion. Harry didn't know how or why but in one way or another, he felt kind of. civil, at least, to Malfoy, who he dubbed as his mortal enemy in his seven years in Hogwarts. Maybe, he is trying to help.
===***===***===***===
A/N: This chapter's a little short and not as cheerful as I promised, or not as I intended it to be, and it's actually full of angsty goodness. Next will be a fluffy one, I can assure you. And I know that Draco is a little bit OC in this chapter, but he'll be back to his old, lovable but prickly self again in the future chapters. (",)
READ? REVIEW!
Disclaimer: Do I look like the owner of one of the most influential and illustrious books ever written in history? No, I don't think so either. J.K Rowling and several publishers own the rights to Harry Potter etc. etc. As if you didn't already know. All hail Rowling! This is just my feeble attempt to write a HP story while book 5 is still nowhere in sight. Roll on Vol. 5! Various quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and the Draco Trilogy by the infamous Cassie Claire can be found in this chapter. The chapter title is also from Buffy.
Summary: Hogwarts is under attack! With the Dark Lord again reigning supreme in the Wizarding World, Harry and his friends must again find a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all, with the help and support of the other houses. Set on Harry's 7th year in Hogwarts, he must make alliances with his once enemies and take refuge in their help. In this chapter, we find more about those days that Hermione was talking about by means of flashbacks. We see Ron's standpoint on the attack and everything else. Draco, Harry and Ginny finally have roles.
Pairings: they're complicated, really. H/hr hr/r hr/d d/g h/g no slash
Spoilers: For all four books. And also there's this mild scene that I borrowed from the story Draco Veritas from Cassie Claire as I mentioned on the first chapter. I hope you all don't mind.
The Final Battle
Chapter Two: Truce
Ron Weasley staggered backwards, his hands tightly pressed against his stomach. He, and like all of the other students in the great hall, was withering in pain. The impact of Voldemort's mighty hex was immediate and powerful. Up until now, he still could not believe what had happened over the past few minutes.
He watched in awe and terror as the Death Eaters strode through the great hall, forming a circle of death surrounding the students and teachers, blocking all the passages in and out of the hall by positioning themselves around by the aisles.
He saw, feeling like a ton of metal had just pressed over his gut, Voldemort, the evil Dark Lord himself walk in the hall, making every students alike gasp in horror and fear. Nobody knew what to do at the moment the feared Dark Lord walked in the great hall, like a king preparing to take over a kingdom that was originally his. He strode in with great confidence and an almighty stature that frightened both students and teachers alike.
Peculiarly, the only thing that he can think of was Hermione Granger. His dear and beautiful Hermione. She was the one who first entered his mind the moment terror and shock overcame every single person in the great hall. He was worried about her, even after those many awful things that had happened between them and their friendship. He still cared for her greatly even though he knows that she would never feel the same way about him. She would never feel the way he feels about her right now. With his hot blood surging through his veins every bloody time that he get just a little glimpse of her bushy dark brown hair and her exquisite eyes.
He frankly didn't know what had caused this indescribable feelings surging into his brain. She was his best friend and he was hers. They could never be more than that and Ron knew that painful truth. He's not stupid, he knows how this ill world works. You can never fall in love with your best friend because it always ends badly. Things would just only be too complicated for him to even register to his brain and God knows that he doesn't want their almost perfect friendship ending just because of his own stupidity for not knowing what is right and what is obviously wrong.
"Hope you like my little presentation and demo of what I can really do to you all if I wish." Voldemort announced a cold and cruel smile forming and the base of his thin, pale lips. "Consider it as a little sign that I do reign supreme right at this very moment, and you are required to please me and obey my every command."
The Death Eaters smirked in their own vindictive ways watching in great delight what was happening all around them.
"I hope you can get my little message through you thick wizarding moronic heads." Voldemort said. "I hope I made myself clear, my dear Dumbledore."
As Ron could see, Dumbledore is just mildly affected by the impenetrable hex that Voldemort has set on them. If it was because the Dark Lord himself purposely excluded the headmaster from the curse or if just that Dumbledore is just too strong for the hex to work on him, Ron might never know.
"You are making a very big mistake here, Voldemort." Dumbledore replied. "Justice will still prevail. Trust me on that."
Voldemort just looked mildly amused.
"All those people you killed, all those lives you destroyed," the famous, but dangerous when put to the test headmaster, said. "Will all come back to you in their own special ways. You will not reign supreme in the wizarding world without the deadly circumstances. There will come a time, Voldemort. There will come a time. It may not be today or tomorrow. You can even kill us all right at this very moment, but what good will it do to you?"
"You are full of gibberish, Dumbledore. You know that?" the feared Dark Lord replied. "Your mouth is moving and there are sounds coming out but I could not comprehend anything with even a remote sense to what you are saying."
Ron found it peculiar that a Dark Lord even has his sense of humor, how ever sick it may be. But in his opinion, it even makes him the more annoying and infuriating to deal with.
It was obvious that Dumbledore was feeling the same way.
"Once I kill that Potter boy, full power will be bestowed on me once again, and I will rule the whole wizarding world and even kill all those stupid and dim-witted muggles roaming around their world and I too will rule them. The mud-bloods will be gone like bubble and only the pure blooded wizards faithful to me will have my mercy of being alive." Voldemort said, the whole great hall shaking in fear and morification at the Dark Lord's voice and words. "You can trust me on THAT, Dumbledore. That I surely assure you."
Still withering in pain, Ron wondered if he would ever see a day as bright as the day they were on the Quidditch field, just practicing and laughing with his most trusted friends, as Harry talked to them about the new statistics and strategies of the game. How he wished that he could replay that pure moment again right now with his stomach feels like it's being stabbed by hundreds of thick sharp knives.
But of course, as ever, that stupid Malfoy had to wreck his almost perfect scene once again.
===***===***===***===
Harry, Ron and Hermione trooped down to where the rest of the team waited at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch. Seamus, who had been made a Chaser just that year, was already there, standing next to Ginny and the third Chaser, Elizabeth Thomas, Dean's younger sister. A little ways away stood the Creevey brothers, who, Hermione suspected, had been made Beaters primarily because they were brothers, and there was a certain superstition regarding the luckiness of having siblings team up as Beaters. They greeted Harry and the others with a cheerful waving of broomsticks.
Hermione dropped back towards the stands, content to watch, her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages on hand in case Harry needed it for reference material. Not that he ever did. He had been nervous about being made team captain, but he needn't have been; he turned out to be as good at strategizing as he was at flying. Hermione suspected he kept an elaborate mental map of the Quidditch field in his head and referred to it at will.
"All right," he was saying now, consulting some notes he had scribbled on a bit of parchment, "I think this time we should work on coordinating better, and telegraphing our moves less. Seamus, you need to be quicker on the turns. Elizabeth, I've got an idea -"
"Actually, I've got an idea," interrupted a drawling voice. "Why don't you all just bugger off, since you've got no business being here in the first place?"
It was Draco, of course, in green Quidditch robes, surrounded by the rest of his team. He was flanked by his Chasers: Blaise Zabini, Malcolm Baddock, and Graham Pritchard. Behind him, looking menacing, were the Beaters: Tess Hammond and Milicent Bulstrode, the largest and ugliest girls in school. Bringing up the rear was Dex Flint, a sharp-faced but handsome fifth-year who played as Keeper.
Draco reached out a lazy hand, took the parchment out of Harry's grip, looked at it with mild disinterest, and let it drop into the snow. " We have the Quidditch pitch booked for practice right now," he said, in a voice like syrup poured over broken glass. "I know you Gryffindors aren't the brightest lot, but I did at least think you could tell time properly."
Harry didn't change expression. "We signed up for this practice last week," he said flatly. "Go and check the book."
"Yes, I saw that," said Draco, lazily twirling his broomstick. If he'd had a moustache, Hermione was sure he would have twirled that too. "But I must confess that when I approached Madam Hooch, she was a little bit distracted and busy with something that she just handed me the log book for me to sign in it myself. She didn't even notice when I wrote right over your name. You know, you've got a very girly signature, Potter. You should work on that."
"You dishonest creep," said Elizabeth, her two pigtails trembling with rage.
"I'm a Slytherin," said Draco, giving her a smile that would have melted solid steel, although it didn't have much effect on Elizabeth. "It's in the job description."
"This trick won't work more than once, Malfoy," said Harry, his green eyes narrowed. "Madam Hooch won't trust you again."
"It only needs to work once." Draco shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about you, Potter. Where were you when they were handing out brains?"
"I don't know," said Harry, his voice dripping acid. "I'm afraid I accidentally got in line for 'shred of moral decency' instead."
"It must have been quite a long line," said Draco. "Apparently you were also too late for 'good looks', 'fashion sense', and 'witty repartee.'"
Ron started forward. Harry hauled him back by the collar of his robes. "I think you've been spending too much time in that dungeon, Malfoy," Ron spat, struggling to get free of Harry's grip. "The lack of natural light must have rotted your brain."
"Oh, right, because you lot live in a tower," said Draco, his voice filled with heavy sarcasm. "A great, big, pointy, thrusting tower. Just the right place for little boys who maybe feel a little.... inadequate? Overcompensating, are we?"
Harry hit him. Draco staggered rather theatrically back into the arms of his teammates, then straightened up and started for Harry, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as he went.
Hermione closed her book and sighed, bored and irritated. Oh for goodness' sake, she thought. Not this again.
"Malfoy, you selfless inconsiderable git!" Harrly bellowed, staggering back when Draco's fist connected with his now sore cheek. "What is your problem? Or are you really just purposely trying to make my life a living hell. Because I've got news for you, it already is."
"Don't be so dense, Potter." He said, as a cold cruel but briefly amusing to look at smirk manifested itself on Draco's beautiful lips. The kind of smirk that Hogwart's girls, whatever level or house that they may be in go all gooey with. "Just fulfilling my responsibility of making sure that you Gryffindor lot, wouldn't be oh-so proud of your none existing accomplishments and your supposed to be contemporary wit. Because, newsflash! Just be honest and admit that you all blokes graduated with a major in 'dumb planning' from the Idiot's University. And Potter here, sat at the feet of the master and learned astonishingly well how to plan dumbly. So we wouldn't be surprised at all if we defeat you guys in the upcoming Quidditch match."
"Don't worry, Malfoy" Harry said, with visible annoyance in his voice. "I'm sure that nobody will really be that flabbergasted when you guys are AGAIN proven to be wrong by us winning, not only the Quidditch match but the House Cup as well. I think we already proved that for the past six years."
"So, you think you're all smart and superior now, don't you?" Draco said, looking mildly pleased that his mere presence is affecting his counterparts. "Ok, let's just see about that."
Draco suddenly threw himself upon Harry, and because Harry wasn't expecting the sudden attack, was brought to the ground by the force of the strike.
===***===***===***===
"Potter, wait up!" Harry heard a voice call from behind him as he walked bruised and a little tired and irritated, away from the Quidditch field that lazy afternoon after the ramble that had just happened, free from all his teammates.
Apparently, the fight that he and that stupid Malfoy git was having got a little too loud, both because of the cheers, insults and the angry shouts of their own rival teammates and their furious and mean comebacks that Professor Mc Gonagall heard their incoherent bellowing and finally broke the pointless and silly argument off. The two boys were pointlessly questioned by the strict Transfiguration teacher, both of them saying that the other started it, which Professor Mc Gonagall obviously did not believe or just too busy to care about anything else. But fortunately, she just let them go with just a warning, and both of the team's supposedly Quidditch practice was cancelled, due to Mc Gonagall's fury and the student's fear of the spectacled and stern teacher.
Harry turned around, already knowing who's idiotic mouth the usual self- considerate voice is from. After all, just a few minutes ago, he was fighting for his life against the owner of the voice's lethal paws. He suddenly regretted leaving his teammates to go for a nice long walk by himself.
He unsurprisingly saw Draco Malfoy coming over to him, his broomstick still clasped on his left hand. Apparently, he too had stayed behind when the Slytherin team went sulkily away, out from the Quidditch field, still disappointed that they didn't get to practice that afternoon. Why he as coming after Harry, he could only guess.
"What do you want, Malfoy?!" Harry impatiently asked. He definitely has no time for the blond git's stupid ramblings.
"Don't be so rude, Potter." Draco calmly said, obviously taking his time in diminishing the space between them. "I'm only here to help you after all."
"What?!" Harry asked, incredulously. What did Malfoy ate that morning? Maybe he had too much Pumpkin Juice that his head is going a little nutty. "What can you help me with, Malfoy?"
"Don't judge me immediately, Potter! Don't think of me as just a stupid, selfish git." Draco suddenly bellowed, that Harry unconsciously jumped back now that they're only inches away from each other. "I know that people only think of me as that little spoiled rich boy that has everything from looks and money to indescribable and incomparable wit."
This had caused Harry to redden from a bit of anger. It had never failed to surprise him of how Malfoy can go from self-depriving himself to glorifying his good fortune.
"But I'm definitely not stupid and I know things that many people don't, and the ones who does wished they hadn't. I've seen things that others die from being drowned by the terrible view of the suffocating environment of endless and sudden deaths. I am more than what you and the others think of me and I know things that I reckon that you should know."
"As much as I appreciate your unsurpassed and heart-wrenching speech," Harry said, sarcastically. "Frankly, I'm just relieved that you're finally getting to the point. whatever it is."
"Don't mock me, you inadequate slug!" Draco threateningly said, his voice dropping down to almost a whisper. "Remember that I'm the one here who's doing you a favor."
"A favor?" Harry asked, still not convinced that Draco was up to anything good or at least placidly important. "And what might that be?"
"He's coming, Potter." Draco said. The slight fear and menace clear in his syrupy voice.
He waited for Harry's reaction, which betrays unfortunately nothing.
"Don't tell me you don't know. you don't feel it every minute and second you walk through this enchanted grounds."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry answered, somewhat defiantly.
"Oh, come on Potter!" Draco exclaimed, raising his arms into the air in frustration. He is really getting fed up with the endless circles that their conversation is going to. "Don't pretend and hide from the truth! You're the boy-who-lived for goodness sakes! Don't pretend that you have not been suffering from that skull wrenching little scar-aches that you have been suffering from every night since the term started!"
Harry looked aghast. But he did not say anything.
"You know what those headaches mean. but yet you choose to ignore these warnings. SIGNS! About what's going to happen. who else is going to die."
"SHUT UP! Just, be quiet!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to wince and step back a little. "Don't act like you know what's happening with me and how difficult my suppose to be perfect life is, with my popularity and fame and all that! Don't act as if you know me, Malfoy. don't pretend to know what exactly I am feeling right now. Because you don't."
It took a moment for Draco to retaliate from Harry's outburst, but surprisingly, he just smirked his usual grating expression and calmly said. "So that's what you're going to do?"
Harry looked at him in the eye for the first time since they had been having this conversation.
"That's what you're going to do, you're going to let them get taken by the enemy. you're going to let them die."
"Why do you care, Malfoy?! What do you want me to do, anyway?" Harry suddenly cut him off. His own anger and his own fear is slowly eating him away, every minute and every morning that he felt that his head might explode from the indescribable pain that he had to endure every time he woke up once again from another terrifying nightmare, concerning the Dark Lord.
"Why do I care? Hmmm. that's actually a good question for a. you know. dim Gryffindor like you." Draco said, still as composed as ever. A contrary to what Harry was suffering from.
Harry let the insult go unnoticed, for he was feeling weaker and more drained than ever.
"You going to answer the question?"
"Frankly, I have no idea." Draco finally answered after a long pause for thought. "Maybe I just care a little more than you all think."
Another long silence followed but somehow, the awkwardness and the intimidation were drained from their discussion. Harry didn't know how or why but in one way or another, he felt kind of. civil, at least, to Malfoy, who he dubbed as his mortal enemy in his seven years in Hogwarts. Maybe, he is trying to help.
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A/N: This chapter's a little short and not as cheerful as I promised, or not as I intended it to be, and it's actually full of angsty goodness. Next will be a fluffy one, I can assure you. And I know that Draco is a little bit OC in this chapter, but he'll be back to his old, lovable but prickly self again in the future chapters. (",)
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