Chapter four

Sep. 4th 1996

Today nothing special happened. We had Defence Against the Dark Arts, some new teacher whose name is Professor Kirkby, a complete idiot with a completely idiotic name, and we had other subjects too of course. We had Divination with that Centaur, Firenze, and I guess it was alright although we just lay on the floor staring up at the sky, watching the stars while he talked about humans and their ability to fool themselves to think that they can actually foresee stuff. Good point. Humans can't look in the future! That Trelawney-person was just a complete foney with nothing better to do. But, although today was just as boring as usual, Dumbledore had some very interesting news to announce at dinner. We're going to have a ball. Again!

Last time we had it was in my fourth year, and it was absolutely worthless. Horrible music, horrible date (Pansy Parkinson, she thinks I'm in love with her. No way!) and just utterly boring. Maybe this year, it will be much better. I know whom I want as a date ...

Draco put his quill and ink away. He thought about the ball. A date. He needed a date. As soon as Dumbledore had mentioned the word "ball", Pansy Parkinson had immediately looked at Draco but he just pretended not to have noticed. He knew the girl would ask him afterwards, so as soon as Dumbledore's little speech was over, he hurried back to the dungeons. He did not want to have Pansy Parkinson hanging after him like some bee to a jar of honey.

No, this year, it would definitely be someone else. A boy. And not just any boy, but the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter.

But how do I get him to agree to a date? Draco thought. I can't just walk up to him and ask ... he'll have the Weasel and the Mudblood hanging around him, and I don't want them to hear.

Draco was abruptly awakened from his thoughts as Crabbe gave a loud snore next to him. Draco flickered. How late is it? he thought. Have I been sitting here all evening? I'd better get to sleep ... Yawning, Draco put his diary in his trunk, went back to bed and crawled into it. Soon, he was fast asleep. He dreamt about the ball. He was dancing ... he held someone's hand ... he looked into a pair of emerald green, beautiful eyes ... Harry ...

As he woke up next day, and remembered the dream, a twisted smile appeared on his lips.

If only you knew, Potter, he thought and got dressed.

Harry walked into the Great Hall together with Ron and Hermione. The other two were bickering about something but Harry didn't listen. He was thinking about the ball that Dumbledore had mentioned the previous day. He wasn't sure he wanted to go. He had had one experience thus far, and thinking back at it didn't exactly make him smile.

His date, Parvati Patil, had wanted to dance and talk and do all those other things Harry could assume one did at a ball, but Harry had been busy casting glances over at Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker he'd had a crush on. He had actually asked her to the ball but she had looked extremely sorry and apologetic as she explained to him that Cedric Diggory (Hufflepuff seeker, killed by Voldemort the very same year) had already asked her, and she had said yes.

So, Harry thought, maybe I could just sit there and watch everyone dance ... and have a good time and ... He sighed. It didn't seem that fun, truth be told. But if he actually did go, whom would he ask? He didn't know anyone he could actually consider going to the ball with, except for Hermione, but Harry was sure Ron would ask her, and without doubt, she'd say yes. Because although Ron and Hermione did indeed wrangle a lot, it was so obvious they had a thing for each other. And yet, the problem remained – who would want to go with Harry?

As Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down to have breakfast, Harry was still thinking about the ball when suddenly somebody tapped his shoulder. He turned round to see who it was.

Malfoy.

'And what do you want?' he snapped automatically. Ron and Hermione immediately looked up, and so did the rest of the Gryffindors. Malfoy sneered at them but didn't say anything, only bent down and whispered in Harry's ear:

'I want to talk to you.' Harry looked at him, surprised.

'What?' he said dumbly. Draco sighed. Gryffindors may be brave, he thought, but they are really not particularly intelligent.

'I said,' he repeated, 'that I want to talk to you.' Harry turned to Ron and Hermione who looked just as surprised as he did. Why did Malfoy want to talk to him?

'Why you little ferret,' said Harry, remembering he had to be rude. 'Fun as it sounds, I'm afraid I have better things to do than talking to some blown-up idiotic little Slytherin. I hate you, remember?' The other Gryffindors laughed, but as Harry noticed the slightly hurt expression on Malfoy's face, he actually regretted saying it.

'Fine!' Draco snarled and walked away proudly, his head held high.

Later, as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked to their first lesson, Harry was still thinking about what had happened earlier. He wanted to tell Ron, but he'd probably just wave it away and say that Malfoy had deserved it. So, instead, he kept quiet and tried to focus on what Professor Flitwick said. It didn't go that well. Several times, Hermione had to wave her hand in front of Harry to wake him up from his thoughts, and with a worried face she asked, 'Are you alright?' Harry just nodded and gave a small but not so convincing smile; Hermione still looked worried when Harry assured her everything was fine. It was definitely not. Why did he all of a sudden care about Malfoy? Before, he could spit out the most insulting things and not feel the tiniest bit sorry for the Slytherin; now, he actually thought he was downright mean. Why?

Sep. 5th1996

Oh my god. I actually went over to the Gryffindor-table and asked Potter if I could have a word with him. I mean, it's not like I'd ruddy ask him to the dance there and then, right in front of all the others. No, I just politely said I wanted to talk to him – and he threw it right back in my face! But of course, what else can one expect from a Gryffindor?

But I still don't understand why I did it! How can I be so stupid? This was honestly one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done. And on top of it all, he just had to call me 'ferret'. Ruddy unbelievable. Although, he kind of looked as if he ... felt sorry for me or something. Like he didn't mean it. Oh, I don't know! Probably just wishful thinking. Anyway, I have to go. Lunch-time, you see, and I just want to eat and then get the hell out of there; I don't think having Potter just a few tables away will be that pleasant.

Draco walked to the Great Hall, hoping not to meet Potter and his fellows. But of course they just had to be wherever he was. As he walked in, he saw them sitting by the Gryffindor-table.

He quickly ate his dinner, not even looking up from the plate. When finished, he checked his schedule and decided that some fresh air would do him good; he had about 50 minutes until next lesson started, and this way, he'd probably not run into Potter.

He went outside and tucked his hands in his pockets. It was really cold and he had no gloves and no scarf; only his robes and they weren't particularly warming. But he'd rather stand out here than be inside; the risk of bumping into Potter was too big.

He was just about to walk back inside (his hands were turning into blocks of ice) when he heard a voice calling his name.

'Malfoy!' someone yelled. Draco turned round, hoping it wasn't ...

'Hey, Malfoy!' Potter repeated. Draco sighed. Can't anyone ever leave you alone in this place?

'What do you want?' he grunted.

'I think the question is,' Harry said as he got closer, 'what did you want?' Draco saw that Harry's raven hair was all tousled and his cheeks were rosy, making him look ... cute.

'Well,' said Malfoy, 'I wanted to ask you something. But ...' He didn't dare continue. To ask Harry to the ball, as his date, was totally and utterly insane. But still ... what if ...

'Yes?' Harry said, sounding curious.

Alright ... here goes nothing, Draco thought and quickly said:

'Iwantedtoaskyoutotheball.' There, it was done! He held his breath.

'Pardon me?' Harry said. 'Could you ...?'

Draco sighed irritably. 'I said, do you want to be my date for the ball?' Harry stared at him.

'You're kidding, right?' he said sceptically.

Malfoy smiled (or well, it was supposed to be a smile, but because of the cold that made his lips freeze, it mostly looked like a grimace) patiently.

'No,' he said calmly. 'I'm not kidding. Now, will you be my date or not? Please hurry up with the answer, I'm ruddy freezing my arse off here!' Draco may have looked calm, but inside his heart was beating incredibly fast against his ribs. What if Harry said no, and then made fun of him?

'Er ...' said Harry. What was he going to say? Did Draco Malfoy, son of a Deatheater, actually ask him, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, to a ball? How do you respond such a thing?

'Look,' said Draco, interrupting Harry's thoughts, 'I'm seriously very cold, so I suggest you just think about it and then give me your answer later, okay? Just ... just don't tell Weasley and Granger, please? I don't think I can ...' His voice trailed off, and not waiting for Harry to say something, he hurried back towards the castle.

Harry, who had just stood there saying nothing, slowly realised what had just happened. His brain wasn't working that well, but finally it somehow decided he also should go back.

As he had gotten inside the castle, Ron and Hermione immediately ran up to him. Harry had told them he was going to go look for Malfoy, and Ron and Hermione said they'd wait for him.

'So?' Ron breathed. 'What did he want? Did you find him?'

'Yes,' Harry said slowly. 'I did ... find him.' Hermione sighed.

'And what did he say?' she asked irritably. 'Tell us, Harry!' At first, Harry thought he wouldn't say anything; Malfoy clearly didn't want him to, but then he changed his mind. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, and in a situation like this, he just had to tell them and ask for their advice. So, slowly, he began to explain what Malfoy had said. When finished, Ron said:

'Malfoy? Asked you to the ball? What the – Harry – why?' Hermione seemed to be as bewildered as Ron; she didn't say anything, only watched Harry as he nodded.

'Yup,' he said. 'Draco Malfoy asked me to the ball.' They stood silently for a few minutes, and then finally, Hermione spoke.

'I think you should say yes,' she said.

'What!' Harry and Ron exclaimed simultaneously.

'Well,' said Hermione, not letting them change her mind, 'think about it, Harry! This is the perfect opportunity for you to finally make friends with him!' Ron just stared at her.

'Why would Harry want to make friends with him?' he spat. 'That bloody ferret – I swear, he's just fooling around with you! If you walk into the Great Hall right now, you'll find him there laughing his arse off together with his disgusting little Slytherin –'

Hermione interrupted him.

'No, you willnot, Harry,' she said firmly and glared at Ron. 'Harry, we saw him coming in! He walked in and then ran, straight down to the dungeons. This is no joke, Harry.'

Harry's mind was filled with thoughts. He, Ron and Hermione made their way to the next lesson; Ron and Hermione were arguing as usual, while he thought about it all. Should he say yes? What would happen if he did? Would they be friends, was that what Malfoy wanted?

Harry was so unconcentrated during the lesson, he didn't notice they had ended until Hermione pulled his arm and said, 'Harry! Wake up, lesson's over!' They went to the Gryffindor common room and Harry spent the rest of the day thinking about Malfoy.

He just couldn't understand it. Why would Malfoy want to Harry to be his date?

This chapter was a bit longer.. hope you liked it :) I noticed I use the word 'idiotic' quite often.. hmm.. anywayza, plz review.