Chapter two, 'Peace offering'
"This looks quite familiar, "I said out loud while he snorted.
"Oh it should indeed. That is where you and your thugs, along with dear Dolores Umbridge, caught our delightful DA meeting, in our lovely fifth year, or last year if you prefer. Remember now ?"he said, amused.
"Right. DA. Umbridge. Last year."
"Right. Here. Arrived. Now, "he replied.
Don't get smart with me, Hero. I glared at him but he just shrugged and entered the room, with me following again. Don't let this be a habit. Malfoys do not follow. He turned around and looked at me. His eyes lit up and he smirked at me. Damn bastard. He always could get a good read on me. He always was the only one that could get under my skin so easily.
The room was nice. Though I had no idea where they had place to practice charms and spells. It looked a bit like the library just more welcoming and was lacking that obnoxious old lady. I picked up some books and they all talked about Potions, there were parchments and quills and ink bottles. How come I didn't know about that place ? How come he did ?
"Less shabby than I thought, "I said as an afterthought.
Again, he sighed but proceeded anyway. He rearranged his glasses who were slipping off his nose. He slowly took off his school robe and tossed it in a corner. My, I wonder if he took my joke seriously. Oh, well, I'm not one to stop a show in this fashion. managed to keep my amusement to just my trademark smirk. At last, he looked up at me, saw my expression and let out an indignant huff as he finally sat down with a loud sound. I shrugged. He looked tense. He looked different. I couldn't quite read him like I usually could.
Normally, I can read people rather easily. The facial expression, the body language, the tone or just the feelings dancing around me. Some say it's called the aura. I usually reply it's one of the many attributes Malfoys possess. And Pots, that's good entertainment. Usually I read him quite simply. Not that he is blatant about his feelings but, you know, that whole archenemy thing makes it easier...Well, I guess. Or perhaps he is indeed obvious and I have no merits. But I like to think it's the former. Malfoy pride and all.
"Such ruckus in such a quiet domain, "I drawled slowly as I straightened myself up as so to face him directly.
"Why d'you think I'd accept it ?"he challenged.
"Well, I can see you're sitting just in front me, Potter. You brought me here. You're even talking to me, "I replied, smirking. "And you suck at Potions, "I added, after a moment.
"Point taken, Malfoy, I guess, "he said.
"Glad you've finally come to your senses and admitted I was right for once," I said, winningly.
"Cunt, "he replied, smirking.
"Ungrateful bastard, "I retorted, mirroring his smirk. "What, Malfoy ? Suppose you want me to say 'thanks' ? "he said, a light grin on his face that I didn't catch.
"Now, now, hero, I don't need that polite shit, "I said dryly, rolling my eyes.
"Fine. Have it your way, then, "he replied quietly.
Sincerely, I don't know how he even manage to pass his Potions classes. I've been paired up with him several times, mostly for dear Snape's sole pleasure, not to mention mine, and believe me, he truly sucks. I don't know how he can though. He mostly has to stick to the instructions. Or maybe he doesn't give a flying fuck about brewing potions...Though I always did say Potter's had a lifelong pass to the moon. Uses it frequently, I might add.
As I indicated some things to him, I, once more, was truly stunned when he wrote everything I told him to. Never did he once complain, argue, protest with me. He did ask some questions about it but he never did fight or insult me. I would've seen him tried. After all, I was helping him, my worst rival. Well, I did say I'd do anything to pull myself out of this incredible dullness.
"So, no friends, huh, Malfoy ? "he casually asked me.
"Don't seem like it, Potter. And I see Weasel and Granger ain't there, "I replied coolly.
"No, Hermione's gone home with Ron. I knew they would end up together. I remember quite clearly saying to them to stop arguing and start going out together. Well, they did hook up though they're still arguing. 'Guess it keeps the fire alive, "he started speaking senseless.
What the hell ? He just started talking like there was no tomorrow, speaking to me like we had been friends all along. What the hell had gotten into him ? Sure I was helping him but it stopped there, didn't it ? Of course it did. What was I thinking ? That we could forgive and forget and become friends ? Forget five years of hate ? Forget who we were, where we came from ? I think not. You Potter. Me Malfoy. That was final.
Was it ?
No way in fucking hell would I become friends with Golden Boy. I tried once and he threw it back in my face. No one throws a Malfoy's friendship in his face. Not even the bloody Boy Who Lived. Not even him, no one, I tell you. I can still remember the glare Father gave me when I told him that. Pure anger. And the lecture I had gotten. It scared me to death. Literally.
Not because of what Potter had done to me but because of what I couldn't achieve. I was soiling once again our name and he didn't like it. I was ruining our reputation. I can still hear him clearly 'Damn, Draco. You still can't get anything right,'. It had ripped my heart out, stung my flesh, burned my ears.
But I didn't let it get to me. Kept my cool I did. I managed to purse my lips so tightly I thought I was going to make them bleed to death. I managed to narrow my eyes so tightly I thought my eyes were going to pop out of their orbits. I had to. I had to be brave in appearance at least. I had to demonstrate that I had been listening, that I had learned. Proud Malfoy, remember ?
"Hey ! "Potter said, waving his hand annoyingly in front of my face.
"Stop that, Potty. Annoying git, "I said without any conviction. "What do you want ? You did want something, right ? For waving your wand around like that ?"I smirked.
"Wank off, Malfoy, "he replied, no more persuaded than I. "I asked you why you were here and not with your family, "he repeated quietly. "You of all people I'd thought would be returning home with your family."
"Tch, Potter. Family ? What is a family ? People who share the same you do or people that care about you and love you ? "I asked bitterly.
His eyes widened, mine slightly blinked when I realized what exactly was that I just said. But I just kept it cool, Malfoy, you know. Yet, I had just admitted that being a Malfoy didn't matter. It was as if I just confessed that I'd rather have a loving, Muggle family instead of a heartless, powerful wizard of a father. No, he was too daft to understand up to that point. He couldn't. I mean, I'm proud of being Draco Malfoy, am I not ?
Sometimes, mostly not. I think I don't care about being a Malfoy anymore. I'd just wear the name for Mum, just for her. Although, in that case, I should wear Black. Like that Sirius guy. I think they were cousins, something like that. Heard he was Potter's godfather. The one that got killed. Oh, well. I'll stick to Malfoy, it is, after all, a matter of time before I'll get disowned, disnamed.
"I'd take the latter. Merlin knows what kind of blood-related family I've to return to, "he answered seriously. "But, knowing you, I'd say it's more of your dad than your mum you're speaking of. I've seen the care and love in her eyes when we saw each other at the Quidditch Cup. "
"None of your business, "I muttered.
"Come on, Malfoy. Talk to me. You said yourself you were bored and you'd do anything, "he pointed out, smirking.
"Oh, right, bring that up in my face again. Though, I must say, you poking in my family business isn't what I had in mind to liven things up a bit, "I replied dryly.
"Gee, you're such a stuck-up, Malfoy. It's not like I'll go shouting it on the roofs of the school. I'll keep quiet about it. I swear."
"Stuck up ? You're the bloody Golden Boy !"I retorted. "Coming from Harry- I'm-Dumbledore's-favourite-pet-student-Potter !"I exclaimed, incredulous.
And then, he did something that completely shocked the boots off me, he did something I'd never thought he would do. He laughed at my joke ! He bloody laughed at a joke that I made. He laughed in the same manner he would have if the Weasel or MudBlood had made a joke. He laughed and it was good to hear. A sincere, genuine laugh. I think I needed that. Because, you know what ? I bloody joined him ! Stupid mistake.
We were laughing like sodding idiots. It was unbelievable. Because all knew of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and his rivalry with Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Will Be a Most Promising Death Eater. We laughed a long time till I had to hold my ribs because they were hurting. He laughed hard too. It had been a long time since I'd laughed like that. At some point, I didn't remember why we starting laughing in the first place.
Oh, right. Because of that thing I said, that I had intended as an insult and that he had took wrongly. Not that it was a bad thing though. I thought we needed that. To relax a bit, to let out that tension between us that had been there from the beginning. I thought it was a good thing to happen. Merlin only knew why the hell I had thought that.
We looked at each other for a bit. Then we stopped. A chuckle, a giggle here and there. And then, I don't know how the bloody hell it came up, but we began talking. Serious talk not silly chitchat. Talked about nearly everything we did. About why he hadn't gone with the Mud Blood and the Weasel, about how he felt left out, about how he was frustrated for Merlin knows what, about how bored we were...
We even talked about when we first met, about the second and third time we saw each other. We talked as if we had been long-time friends, catching up, that's all. We talked about how we felt. I even allowed myself to talk about how I felt when he rejected me though I never did talk about Father or Mum. And he never did press the matter further. Perhaps he had forgotten about it though.
We passed the whole afternoon talking about everything and about nothing. And I actually enjoyed myself. And I've no doubt he did too. It was quite strange when I paused to think about it. Which wasn't quite often. I felt good for one of the rare times in my life. I felt at ease. I felt as if we really were friends. And I think somewhere, deep inside, I wished we were. Just by that day, I felt he was a good friend. Even if he wasn't mine. And never would be.
"Hey, Malfoy, I've an idea, "he said suddenly.
"What, you !?"
"Oh, hush, I'm serious here, "indeed he was, "Well, since we're both alone on Christmas, without any friends, why don't we call a truce for the holidays ? I mean, it'd be better than to sulk alone in separate corners...What d'you say ?"
Bloody hell, Potter ! Stop startling me like that ! How many times now ? Four, five ? Six ? But that was indeed unexpected. Not unwanted though. Unexpected, that's all. A truce. For the holidays. That meant it'd be over when school would start. Not that I'd want it any other way. Not that I'd want to be permanent friends with our national hero. Or did I ? Perhaps...
"Why not ? "I replied after a moment.
I held my hand to him. You better not throw this in my face again because I swear, I'll hex you into oblivion. But he just smiled and shook my hand. It had been longer than just a friendly shake. But I couldn't make out of this anymore than it was: a friendly shake of hands. Though I thought I did see a bit of colours creeping up on his cheeks. But he turned away on the couch.
Because we were on the couch then, a couch that had magically appeared out of nowhere. And we were about a meter away from each other and I didn't felt the urge to curse him to his death. I didn't felt the need to insult him. I felt...good ? There I go again. Making out of this more than it really was. We fell in a comfortable silence.
I stole a glance at him, took his looks in while he wasn't watching. He wasn't that bad, not as bad as I thought. He was good-looking in fact. Apart from those damn, ridiculously big glasses, he was pretty attractive. And that scar, I know I've teased him about it a lot but it was rather becoming of him. A part of him. I could make out a nicely-shaped body through his shirt.
Don't go screaming around for nothing. I play for both teams. I always did. It had been public for some time now. I swing both ways. Girls, boys, I really don't care, as long as they're a good shag, as long as they make a night's worth, then it's fine by me. And, hero, here, looked more than shaggable. I think I'd molest him right here and now.
If there wasn't the fact that he was Potter, the fact that he was Golden Boy, the fact that he would not be willing, as I said before, I was not, never had been, never will be, a bloody rapist and did I say the fact that he was Potter ? Though some part of me sure did not seem to mind. Even if it was Harry Bloody Potter we were talking about.
"So, you never did answer my question, "he noticed, speaking finally.
"No, indeed, I did not and they are not matters I wish to discuss with you or anybody else for that matter, "I said, coolly. Wait a minute that sounded like I was trying to pacify my bitter remark. Ugh.
"Oh, be that way, Malfoy, won't you ? No wonder you're all alone on Christmas if you don't want to talk about anything to anyone. Fine with me. Keep all of to yourself like you know how to, shove that sodding truce up your arse and bloody wank off ! "he burst out.
Furious, he quickly stood up, gathering his things together, in a rather poor attempt, if I might. Though he did not seem to care. What was up with him anyway ? Just because I offered to help him didn't mean we were friends all of a sudden. What was he thinking ? Gods, I mean, that a was rather pissed Potter I just saw darting off. For nothing in my opinion.
There are just things one don't want to talk about and even less with your lifelong rival. Even less with the Golden Boy, with the Boy Who Lived, with Perfect Potty. Family was one of those taboos with me, even I acted as though I was proud of it. Of Father, of Mum, of our name, of our reputation. Well, I did rant about them with my Slytherins mates but with Potter ? No fucking way.
How would he feel if I asked him what he felt about witnessing Diggory's death at the hands of Voldemort ? How would he feel talking about that Black mate's death ? He wouldn't be too keen on talking about it to me, he barely speaks of it to anyone. No, I'm not interested in his life but rumours and gossip do come round, even to the deep, dark dungeons of Slytherins. I knew exactly how he would react if I were to ask him.
He would bloody stare at me for a moment then literally explode right in front of me. He would flush a bright red. He would either take out his wand and try and hex me or would resort to brutal force. He would insult me, tell me to sod off. He would have smoke rising from his ears. And, of course, he would lose his house at least a hundred points. Two hundred if he got caught by Snape. But that's beside the point.
Oh, blast it. I must be really bored to think about him non-stop. About Perfect Potty, Goodness gracious. About how I claim to know how he would react. About how I claim to know him when we are bloody enemies since day one. About how...Oh, for Heaven's sake, Malfoy, stop thinking about Golden Boy...I even thought of shagging him. Ugh.
That's it. I'm cracked. I was talking to myself in the middle of that godforsaken Room of Requirements with some first years lurking in the halls, lost like shit, scared like shit as I stormed past them. I'm not that scary, come on. Well, maybe so. I am a Malfoy, I am a Slytherin, I am a sixth year and I was bloody pissed at Potter. Maybe they did have good reasons. Though. Learn to live with it, they'll get to scare off first years in a couple of years. Best of luck, mates.
"This looks quite familiar, "I said out loud while he snorted.
"Oh it should indeed. That is where you and your thugs, along with dear Dolores Umbridge, caught our delightful DA meeting, in our lovely fifth year, or last year if you prefer. Remember now ?"he said, amused.
"Right. DA. Umbridge. Last year."
"Right. Here. Arrived. Now, "he replied.
Don't get smart with me, Hero. I glared at him but he just shrugged and entered the room, with me following again. Don't let this be a habit. Malfoys do not follow. He turned around and looked at me. His eyes lit up and he smirked at me. Damn bastard. He always could get a good read on me. He always was the only one that could get under my skin so easily.
The room was nice. Though I had no idea where they had place to practice charms and spells. It looked a bit like the library just more welcoming and was lacking that obnoxious old lady. I picked up some books and they all talked about Potions, there were parchments and quills and ink bottles. How come I didn't know about that place ? How come he did ?
"Less shabby than I thought, "I said as an afterthought.
Again, he sighed but proceeded anyway. He rearranged his glasses who were slipping off his nose. He slowly took off his school robe and tossed it in a corner. My, I wonder if he took my joke seriously. Oh, well, I'm not one to stop a show in this fashion. managed to keep my amusement to just my trademark smirk. At last, he looked up at me, saw my expression and let out an indignant huff as he finally sat down with a loud sound. I shrugged. He looked tense. He looked different. I couldn't quite read him like I usually could.
Normally, I can read people rather easily. The facial expression, the body language, the tone or just the feelings dancing around me. Some say it's called the aura. I usually reply it's one of the many attributes Malfoys possess. And Pots, that's good entertainment. Usually I read him quite simply. Not that he is blatant about his feelings but, you know, that whole archenemy thing makes it easier...Well, I guess. Or perhaps he is indeed obvious and I have no merits. But I like to think it's the former. Malfoy pride and all.
"Such ruckus in such a quiet domain, "I drawled slowly as I straightened myself up as so to face him directly.
"Why d'you think I'd accept it ?"he challenged.
"Well, I can see you're sitting just in front me, Potter. You brought me here. You're even talking to me, "I replied, smirking. "And you suck at Potions, "I added, after a moment.
"Point taken, Malfoy, I guess, "he said.
"Glad you've finally come to your senses and admitted I was right for once," I said, winningly.
"Cunt, "he replied, smirking.
"Ungrateful bastard, "I retorted, mirroring his smirk. "What, Malfoy ? Suppose you want me to say 'thanks' ? "he said, a light grin on his face that I didn't catch.
"Now, now, hero, I don't need that polite shit, "I said dryly, rolling my eyes.
"Fine. Have it your way, then, "he replied quietly.
Sincerely, I don't know how he even manage to pass his Potions classes. I've been paired up with him several times, mostly for dear Snape's sole pleasure, not to mention mine, and believe me, he truly sucks. I don't know how he can though. He mostly has to stick to the instructions. Or maybe he doesn't give a flying fuck about brewing potions...Though I always did say Potter's had a lifelong pass to the moon. Uses it frequently, I might add.
As I indicated some things to him, I, once more, was truly stunned when he wrote everything I told him to. Never did he once complain, argue, protest with me. He did ask some questions about it but he never did fight or insult me. I would've seen him tried. After all, I was helping him, my worst rival. Well, I did say I'd do anything to pull myself out of this incredible dullness.
"So, no friends, huh, Malfoy ? "he casually asked me.
"Don't seem like it, Potter. And I see Weasel and Granger ain't there, "I replied coolly.
"No, Hermione's gone home with Ron. I knew they would end up together. I remember quite clearly saying to them to stop arguing and start going out together. Well, they did hook up though they're still arguing. 'Guess it keeps the fire alive, "he started speaking senseless.
What the hell ? He just started talking like there was no tomorrow, speaking to me like we had been friends all along. What the hell had gotten into him ? Sure I was helping him but it stopped there, didn't it ? Of course it did. What was I thinking ? That we could forgive and forget and become friends ? Forget five years of hate ? Forget who we were, where we came from ? I think not. You Potter. Me Malfoy. That was final.
Was it ?
No way in fucking hell would I become friends with Golden Boy. I tried once and he threw it back in my face. No one throws a Malfoy's friendship in his face. Not even the bloody Boy Who Lived. Not even him, no one, I tell you. I can still remember the glare Father gave me when I told him that. Pure anger. And the lecture I had gotten. It scared me to death. Literally.
Not because of what Potter had done to me but because of what I couldn't achieve. I was soiling once again our name and he didn't like it. I was ruining our reputation. I can still hear him clearly 'Damn, Draco. You still can't get anything right,'. It had ripped my heart out, stung my flesh, burned my ears.
But I didn't let it get to me. Kept my cool I did. I managed to purse my lips so tightly I thought I was going to make them bleed to death. I managed to narrow my eyes so tightly I thought my eyes were going to pop out of their orbits. I had to. I had to be brave in appearance at least. I had to demonstrate that I had been listening, that I had learned. Proud Malfoy, remember ?
"Hey ! "Potter said, waving his hand annoyingly in front of my face.
"Stop that, Potty. Annoying git, "I said without any conviction. "What do you want ? You did want something, right ? For waving your wand around like that ?"I smirked.
"Wank off, Malfoy, "he replied, no more persuaded than I. "I asked you why you were here and not with your family, "he repeated quietly. "You of all people I'd thought would be returning home with your family."
"Tch, Potter. Family ? What is a family ? People who share the same you do or people that care about you and love you ? "I asked bitterly.
His eyes widened, mine slightly blinked when I realized what exactly was that I just said. But I just kept it cool, Malfoy, you know. Yet, I had just admitted that being a Malfoy didn't matter. It was as if I just confessed that I'd rather have a loving, Muggle family instead of a heartless, powerful wizard of a father. No, he was too daft to understand up to that point. He couldn't. I mean, I'm proud of being Draco Malfoy, am I not ?
Sometimes, mostly not. I think I don't care about being a Malfoy anymore. I'd just wear the name for Mum, just for her. Although, in that case, I should wear Black. Like that Sirius guy. I think they were cousins, something like that. Heard he was Potter's godfather. The one that got killed. Oh, well. I'll stick to Malfoy, it is, after all, a matter of time before I'll get disowned, disnamed.
"I'd take the latter. Merlin knows what kind of blood-related family I've to return to, "he answered seriously. "But, knowing you, I'd say it's more of your dad than your mum you're speaking of. I've seen the care and love in her eyes when we saw each other at the Quidditch Cup. "
"None of your business, "I muttered.
"Come on, Malfoy. Talk to me. You said yourself you were bored and you'd do anything, "he pointed out, smirking.
"Oh, right, bring that up in my face again. Though, I must say, you poking in my family business isn't what I had in mind to liven things up a bit, "I replied dryly.
"Gee, you're such a stuck-up, Malfoy. It's not like I'll go shouting it on the roofs of the school. I'll keep quiet about it. I swear."
"Stuck up ? You're the bloody Golden Boy !"I retorted. "Coming from Harry- I'm-Dumbledore's-favourite-pet-student-Potter !"I exclaimed, incredulous.
And then, he did something that completely shocked the boots off me, he did something I'd never thought he would do. He laughed at my joke ! He bloody laughed at a joke that I made. He laughed in the same manner he would have if the Weasel or MudBlood had made a joke. He laughed and it was good to hear. A sincere, genuine laugh. I think I needed that. Because, you know what ? I bloody joined him ! Stupid mistake.
We were laughing like sodding idiots. It was unbelievable. Because all knew of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and his rivalry with Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Will Be a Most Promising Death Eater. We laughed a long time till I had to hold my ribs because they were hurting. He laughed hard too. It had been a long time since I'd laughed like that. At some point, I didn't remember why we starting laughing in the first place.
Oh, right. Because of that thing I said, that I had intended as an insult and that he had took wrongly. Not that it was a bad thing though. I thought we needed that. To relax a bit, to let out that tension between us that had been there from the beginning. I thought it was a good thing to happen. Merlin only knew why the hell I had thought that.
We looked at each other for a bit. Then we stopped. A chuckle, a giggle here and there. And then, I don't know how the bloody hell it came up, but we began talking. Serious talk not silly chitchat. Talked about nearly everything we did. About why he hadn't gone with the Mud Blood and the Weasel, about how he felt left out, about how he was frustrated for Merlin knows what, about how bored we were...
We even talked about when we first met, about the second and third time we saw each other. We talked as if we had been long-time friends, catching up, that's all. We talked about how we felt. I even allowed myself to talk about how I felt when he rejected me though I never did talk about Father or Mum. And he never did press the matter further. Perhaps he had forgotten about it though.
We passed the whole afternoon talking about everything and about nothing. And I actually enjoyed myself. And I've no doubt he did too. It was quite strange when I paused to think about it. Which wasn't quite often. I felt good for one of the rare times in my life. I felt at ease. I felt as if we really were friends. And I think somewhere, deep inside, I wished we were. Just by that day, I felt he was a good friend. Even if he wasn't mine. And never would be.
"Hey, Malfoy, I've an idea, "he said suddenly.
"What, you !?"
"Oh, hush, I'm serious here, "indeed he was, "Well, since we're both alone on Christmas, without any friends, why don't we call a truce for the holidays ? I mean, it'd be better than to sulk alone in separate corners...What d'you say ?"
Bloody hell, Potter ! Stop startling me like that ! How many times now ? Four, five ? Six ? But that was indeed unexpected. Not unwanted though. Unexpected, that's all. A truce. For the holidays. That meant it'd be over when school would start. Not that I'd want it any other way. Not that I'd want to be permanent friends with our national hero. Or did I ? Perhaps...
"Why not ? "I replied after a moment.
I held my hand to him. You better not throw this in my face again because I swear, I'll hex you into oblivion. But he just smiled and shook my hand. It had been longer than just a friendly shake. But I couldn't make out of this anymore than it was: a friendly shake of hands. Though I thought I did see a bit of colours creeping up on his cheeks. But he turned away on the couch.
Because we were on the couch then, a couch that had magically appeared out of nowhere. And we were about a meter away from each other and I didn't felt the urge to curse him to his death. I didn't felt the need to insult him. I felt...good ? There I go again. Making out of this more than it really was. We fell in a comfortable silence.
I stole a glance at him, took his looks in while he wasn't watching. He wasn't that bad, not as bad as I thought. He was good-looking in fact. Apart from those damn, ridiculously big glasses, he was pretty attractive. And that scar, I know I've teased him about it a lot but it was rather becoming of him. A part of him. I could make out a nicely-shaped body through his shirt.
Don't go screaming around for nothing. I play for both teams. I always did. It had been public for some time now. I swing both ways. Girls, boys, I really don't care, as long as they're a good shag, as long as they make a night's worth, then it's fine by me. And, hero, here, looked more than shaggable. I think I'd molest him right here and now.
If there wasn't the fact that he was Potter, the fact that he was Golden Boy, the fact that he would not be willing, as I said before, I was not, never had been, never will be, a bloody rapist and did I say the fact that he was Potter ? Though some part of me sure did not seem to mind. Even if it was Harry Bloody Potter we were talking about.
"So, you never did answer my question, "he noticed, speaking finally.
"No, indeed, I did not and they are not matters I wish to discuss with you or anybody else for that matter, "I said, coolly. Wait a minute that sounded like I was trying to pacify my bitter remark. Ugh.
"Oh, be that way, Malfoy, won't you ? No wonder you're all alone on Christmas if you don't want to talk about anything to anyone. Fine with me. Keep all of to yourself like you know how to, shove that sodding truce up your arse and bloody wank off ! "he burst out.
Furious, he quickly stood up, gathering his things together, in a rather poor attempt, if I might. Though he did not seem to care. What was up with him anyway ? Just because I offered to help him didn't mean we were friends all of a sudden. What was he thinking ? Gods, I mean, that a was rather pissed Potter I just saw darting off. For nothing in my opinion.
There are just things one don't want to talk about and even less with your lifelong rival. Even less with the Golden Boy, with the Boy Who Lived, with Perfect Potty. Family was one of those taboos with me, even I acted as though I was proud of it. Of Father, of Mum, of our name, of our reputation. Well, I did rant about them with my Slytherins mates but with Potter ? No fucking way.
How would he feel if I asked him what he felt about witnessing Diggory's death at the hands of Voldemort ? How would he feel talking about that Black mate's death ? He wouldn't be too keen on talking about it to me, he barely speaks of it to anyone. No, I'm not interested in his life but rumours and gossip do come round, even to the deep, dark dungeons of Slytherins. I knew exactly how he would react if I were to ask him.
He would bloody stare at me for a moment then literally explode right in front of me. He would flush a bright red. He would either take out his wand and try and hex me or would resort to brutal force. He would insult me, tell me to sod off. He would have smoke rising from his ears. And, of course, he would lose his house at least a hundred points. Two hundred if he got caught by Snape. But that's beside the point.
Oh, blast it. I must be really bored to think about him non-stop. About Perfect Potty, Goodness gracious. About how I claim to know how he would react. About how I claim to know him when we are bloody enemies since day one. About how...Oh, for Heaven's sake, Malfoy, stop thinking about Golden Boy...I even thought of shagging him. Ugh.
That's it. I'm cracked. I was talking to myself in the middle of that godforsaken Room of Requirements with some first years lurking in the halls, lost like shit, scared like shit as I stormed past them. I'm not that scary, come on. Well, maybe so. I am a Malfoy, I am a Slytherin, I am a sixth year and I was bloody pissed at Potter. Maybe they did have good reasons. Though. Learn to live with it, they'll get to scare off first years in a couple of years. Best of luck, mates.