Harry looked around, and noticed Neville and Ginny in front of the fire. He decided to head up to his room. Seamus Finnigan was there, but he made no attempt to speak to Harry. He was too busy arguing with Dean about the best seeker out of the day's teams. Harry climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains around it and cast a silencing spell on them. He needed some peace and quiet. He lay his bookbag on his bed, and lay down, staring up at the fabric draped over it.
He stared at the ceiling. He remembered what he had said to Malfoy, cringing at the mere memory. Had he actually said that? It was true after all. He had known a long time ago that he could kill if need be. He had traded some power with Voldemort the moment he received the scar, which was partially why the curse had no effect on him. Well, not the normal effect, anyway. He wondered how he had lived a powerful curse, and how Cho had died in a car crash. A car crash seemed so much less powerful, and yet…He turned over and sighed.
This was part of the problem. Perhaps how he had acted today was to make up for losing Cho. Hermione was quite capable of protecting herself, but somehow just like Cho, she wasn't able too. But this time he had been able to save Hermione. He had had a warning, and time to prepare. He somehow felt better about this time around. He had done some good this time, he wasn't helpless. These were comforting thoughts, but another thought made him uneasy. He had nearly lost his mind when he saw Malfoy about to hit her. Harry had an odd feeling Malfoy was lucky he was in one piece. He remembered the look on Hermione's face, the way she took a step back from him. He closed his eyes to make the sight of her dissapear, it almost made him feel sick.
He was not sure he would have killed him, but he had felt like he deserved it at that moment. Hermione was right though. Draco wasn't evil, it was his father's doing. At school, Draco was under Dumbledore's influence, and less harmful. He could grow to be an ally against Voldemort. This thought comforted Harry and he yawned. Before he fell asleep, he undid the silencing spell on his bed, and put his book bag on the floor. Out of pure habit, he lay the sheet of enchanted parchment on his bedside table before rolling over and falling asleep. It was the best sleep he had in months. It was dreamless, and deep. But it would not last long.