Potions class. While his friends got their stuff ready for class, Harry went right past, folder in the crook of his arm, to where the Slytherins congregated. It was like plunging feet-first into a dragon's lair, the icy, accusing looks of the students in green and silver like booby traps. But Harry forced an aloof attitude, like it were nothing to him that he was making himself at home at the desk next to the Slytherin Head Boy.
Malfoy snapped, "What do you think you're doing here, Potter?" If his peers weren't watching so intently, he would have completely ignored Harry.
"Just a little change of scenery, is all. You have a better view of the board from here."
"Why should that matter to you, four-eyes?" The acid in Malfoy's voice was especially caustic.
Harry dropped his attitude with his voice. "Look, I know you're mad about last night."
"Mad? If I have to put up with Muckbloods in school, why not out?"
"Well, at least you got to go at all, Malfoy."
Malfoy's pained eyes humbled Harry. "I know Weasley had to drive the bloody car, but you didn't have to bring Granger!"
"Malfoy, she was in the room when we talked about it. I couldn't just leave her out."
Malfoy turned away dramatically and said, "O, you'd never leave anyone out of the fun, would you?"
As Harry started to respond, the class quieted. The tall, sweeping form of their teacher cast an unnerving shadow over the trembling first years in the front.
Harry hoped very much Professor Snape wouldn't notice his sitting with the Slytherins. He whispered harshly to Malfoy, who immediately let his favorite teacher command his full attention, "You were the one who left yourself out."
Harry watched with fury as Malfoy's eyes glazed over, following Snape's every move. He didn't seem like was listening to anything either person was saying.
Harry punched Malfoy in the shoulder. "Dang it, Malfoy! Why won't you say something?"
Then he swallowed, feeling a flash in his heart, when Snape said, "In case you haven't noticed, Mr. Potter, class has indeed started. I trust you know where you belong." His harsh voice allowed no argument.
As Harry gathered his stuff to leave, he stooped to Malfoy and said, "I thought we were finally starting to get along, Malfoy. I guess you don't want to come coning with me and my friends tonight."
After class, Harry had the misfortune of confronting Malfoy in the hall. He acted aloof as he goaded Malfoy, "Can't wait till tonight. Me and the others are really going to make a mess with those cones."
Malfoy turned red slightly as he tried to walk away, but Harry pulled him back.
"You're pathetic, you know that?" Harry sneered. "You're acting like a little baby."
Malfoy stared at him with a look made of ice and smashed his fist on Harry's jaw.
Staggering back a bit, Harry wiped a trickle of blood off his lip, then grinned. "Nice to see you're back at your old self again, Malfoy," he taunted.
The dark red blood on Harry's light skin egged Malfoy on for more, and he gave it to him. But Harry didn't let him get away with anything. Their wands and books tossed on the ground, the boys flew themselves at each other for a full on brawl.
And Malfoy gets an uppercut in, blood spraying from Harry's mouth, ooo, that must hurt! What a loser! His unworthy opponent swipes, but Malfoy dodges, so Harry spins around with his back to Malfoy, so our hero can get a solid box in 4-Eyes' back! But Harry's not done. He gets up fast to plant one right in Malfoy's chops, so our hero falls down, plenty of blood for everyone here, folks! And he gets back up, and what's this? Harry seems to have something in his hand! What could it be? Giving Harry a quick jab in the ribs, Malfoy tries to see what that little chicken has.and o! he gets socked again!
Now on his butt, Malfoy decided to stop his mental narration of the fight. He gave Harry a defiant look, but was panting too hard to get up. And there they sat, staring at each other, watching the sweat drip off their faces, their chests heaving. Every range of emotion could be seen spreading on Malfoy's face as Harry concentrated on it. With both of their eyes locked in a deathly embrace, Harry slid his hand slowly in the pocket of his robe and took it out, closed.
Malfoy kept himself cool, though Harry could smell the fearful suspicion gathering in his gut. He said, "What's that you got there, Potter?"
When Harry opened his fist, he showed a tiny orange cone, no bigger than his pinky. With a sly look in his glistening eyes, he tipped it.
Malfoy stared at the spectacle like it were the maddest thing in the world, and Harry didn't change his stance or expression. Then Malfoy splurted out choking laughter, which Harry joined, his body doubling, and the cone tinkling on the floor between them.
The next few minutes were spent tipping that tiny cone, throwing it, anything they could think of. Harry congratulated himself in bringing that elusive friend out of Malfoy once again.
When he got control of himself, Malfoy asked, "Where'd you get that thing?"
"I stole it off of Fred's toy town set. He's got a whole mess of 'em in his room!"
"You idiot! You should've stolen them all! We'd have our own cone site."
It scared Harry a bit how quickly and radically the mood changed. "I could invite you to come coning tonight. If you behave, that is." Harry gave Malfoy a humble smile.
Malfoy's neutral expression flashed away as he spat on the floor. "Whatever, Potter." He got up, kicking the cone across the floor.
Harry got up to follow, having a hard time keeping up with the other. "What? What's your problem now? I invited you."
Malfoy's sudden turn made Harry stumble back. His gray eyes glinting with a trace of red, he said with little life in his voice, "You invited me to kiss your butt. Well I officially refuse your kind offer."
"It's about the others, isn't it?" said Harry, feeling his face get very warm. "Why does it have to be about them?"
"I should ask you the same thing. You can't go anywhere without your little fan-club. I'm not as thick as you think I am, Potter. I'm not going anywhere I'm not wanted." He paused to look Harry up and down as if inspecting a cow he wanted to buy. "Even if I wanted to dirty myself with that filth."
When Harry threw his fist at Malfoy, the blonde caught it coolly.
Harry instead said, with an eerie coolness that unnerved his rival, "It's a wonder how you survive, making such a big deal out of things. Or maybe you like the whole drama queen stuff." Harry himself was surprised at his jeering tone, but it only made him get meaner. This was fun.
It was also fun to see Malfoy's face flush redder than a cherry and his lips tremble. "You stole my idea. You ruined it, with them."
"Then maybe you shouldn't have told me about it in the first place."
His eyes getting red, Malfoy nodded and backpedaled. "You know what? You're right. That'll teach me to never tell you anything ever again!" And Malfoy's voice cracked a bit.
Harry put out his arm as Malfoy stomped off, and let it drop, with his head. "Well, congratulations," he said to himself. "You've just messed things up even more."