"If you 'ave ruined his face, meester Weasley, I will be feeding you to ze pigs or some uzzer ugly animal, I tell you!"
"I invented Quidditch, you know?"
"Look, I found him! 'E ees in zis room! Draco, oh Draco, open your eyes mon cheri!"
"I wrote a book about it too. Sold all over the world."
"Meester Weasley, I 'ope you are wanting to shut up soon."
"Honestly Ron, you'll be waking the whole of St.Mungo's!"
"You lot! Be quiet. He might still be asleep..."
Draco slowly opened his eyes. Everything was white. Everything was so strikingly white that he had to squint a few times to adjust to the brightness. He wondered how long he'd been asleep.
"'E ees awake!"
All of a sudden, Draco was smothered with a mass of long, blonde hair. Gabrielle seemed to be hysterically wailing, but Draco couldn't feel any tears on his neck. He tried loosening her grip on him.
"Could you..."
"Oh Draco!" Gabrielle dramatically tossed her head back , dabbing her eyes with a pink satin handkerchief.
Gabrielle...always the little Drama Queen...
Draco looked around. He'd never been in a hospital before. Somehow, his mother always managed to extract all the Healing Potions he needed from her private supply. In a corner of the room stood Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Tonks. They looked as though they weren't sure whether to come closer to him or remain where they were. Draco surreptitiously searched their expressions for any signs of hostility but found none. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron expectantly ; Ron turned pink around his ears and Harry looked exceptionally uncomfortable. They both approached Draco's bed hesitantly.
"Er," Harry looked at Ron nervously and extracted a small piece of parchment from his pocket, "Okay, er... ready Ron?"
Ron swallowed and nodded, looking strangely determined. Then the two boys began to read out loud.
"We are very sorry... for thinking you were a... slimy git. We did not think... you'd end up not being a prat... after all," they said together monotonously.
"Thank you for saving my mum's life."
"Thank you for saving Mrs. Weasley's life."
"And we're sorry if we've ever said anything... really mean to you... or anything. If we said anything to offend you it was... unintentional."
Harry and Ron looked at Draco expectantly.
"I see you two have set aside this time to humiliate yourself in public. Bravo." Draco's words reeked of sarcasm, but in truth, something about the gesture warmed him inside. A grin escaped his lips unknowingly. In fact, thinking back to the incident at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he felt as if he just signed a contract; like he just made something official: Draco Malfoy was officially on Potty and Weasel's side. Did that make him a traitor to the Pureblood's cause? He wasn't sure what to think, but he knew that, for once, he was beginning to feel like he was truly part of a group, a cause, something. Draco would never have admitted this out loud, but being appreciated and given gratitude made him feel... well, good. Any sort of service he did for the Dark Lord paled in comparison; he was commended and praised, but there was a certain aloofness to it, whereas this felt like being clapped on the back as an equal, as a friend.
Draco was snapped out of his musings by Ron's dangerously narrowed eyes.
"You smarmy git! We spent an hour writing that!"
"Well, it's not like I'm being rude," Draco said this in an almost perfect imitation of Hermione's know-it-all face. "You're just... insignificant."
Draco could tell everyone was trying to supress their laughter for fear of upsetting Hermione, but to their great surprise , she gave a little laugh. There was a collective sigh of relief.
"You are such a prat, Malfoy," said Tonks, smiling.
"Well, you know, I'm really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me."
"Right," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, "still Draco Malfoy. Playing hero for a day hasn't changed you at all, has it?"
On Hermione's part, she knew that although it had taken something like this to happen , her friends were finally beginning to see the good in Draco; well, she amended, whatever good there still was in him. Indeed, she'd wanted to believe that he wasn't the Malfoy they'd known before, but honestly, she'd only have believed that half-heartedly until yesterday's incident. She was right... again! She simply couldn't keep herself from smiling. She had a good feeling about all of this.
"Oh, I hope not... otherwise I'd end up like Potter here," Draco pointed his chin towards Harry shooting him a look of disgust. There was an awkward silence. Then a corner of Draco's lip curled into a little smile and everyone laughed. Slowly, the laughter died, then Draco cleared his throat. "Right, so when do I get out of here?"
"Right now, if you want," said Ginny grinning at him.
When Draco finished dressing himself with the same smoke-smelling shirt, jeans, and black robes as he had on the day before, everyone except Harry had left. Harry quickly explained that the others had gone ahead and this left Draco feeling slightly put-off, he had just been relishing his new-found glory. On the way out, they both dropped by Mrs. Weasley 's room who was occupied by knitting a sweater. Mrs. Weasley boasted that she was well enough to just walk out of St. Mungo's with them, but the Healers wanted to make sure that her re-grown spine (the former had been broken when Lucius thrusted her viciously down the basement) was fully functional.
"I have a question," asked Draco as he, Harry and Hermione strolled out of King's Cross Station, drinking some perfectly brewed Muggle iced coffee. "Where are we going? I mean, where exactly will the new Headquarters be?"
"My dad's place," answered Harry. "And don't talk about Sirius' house like that. He left me everything he owned in that house."
There was a thoughtful silence from Draco.
"Your dead dad's place?"
"I hate you Malfoy."
"That's irrelevant. Your dead dad's place?"
"I only have one dad, you know."
"Whatever, so we're staying at your dead parents' house?" Draco seemed genuinely interested in the subject.
"Subtlety isn't exactly your area of expertise, is it?" said Harry, clenching his teeth.
"Well...no," answered Draco matter-of-factly.
"I should also tell you that we're moving to the Burrow--- that's the Weasley's place so don't go strutting around or you'll get chucked out and go back to your mental father."
"I don't strut."
Harry scoffed. "Oh yes, you do! Wait, we have to get a cab. Hey! Hey, can you take us to this address? Thanks."
"I will not enter that... wheeled-box," said Draco arrogantly in a very reminiscent manner of his father.
"No choice."
"What do you mean, no choice? I'm a Malfoy. My whims must be catered to. Why don't we just Apparate?"
"Shut up," hissed Harry, "you can't talk like that in front of Muggles."
"Hey, if you lot want a ride, you get in now or I roll," threatened the driver. Draco rolled his eyes at the scruffy-looking man.
"Fine. By the way, I tread with grace," Draco pointed his finger at Harry warningly, then bent down to enter the cab. "Anyway, is er... this place we're going to... is it liveable? I mean, there won't be any disgusting infestations..."
"No Draco, there won't."
Draco fell into silence. Harry Potter had just called him "Draco." Did he really want to object to that? Should he really let them both be on first-name basis? He chose neutral silence.
I should just hex him. It's what the old Draco would do and I'm still Draco.
But somehow, a small voice in the back of Draco's head remarked that he wasn't that same Draco anymore.
Author's Note: I've been getting some comments that Draco was being too nice... I don't really know (or want for that matter) to change anything in the past chapters, because they're exactly the way I want them, but I tried to bring out the sarcastic side in him in this chapter and will try to continue. Please add a little bit about wether you like this Draco or not in your review.
A HUGE thank-you to my awesome BETA Yuying!
Well wishes to you all!---- Miss Extraordinary