Chapter 5

"Harry, wake up!" I opened my eyes slowly to see a boy with bright red hair staring down at me. "Umm…didn't suppose you wanted to miss class?" he asked softly.

It took me a moment to realize exactly what Ron was saying. "Cl—oh!" I yelled scrambling to get up and change. "Right…because that's what we do on days like these. We go to class!"

Ron watched me run to the bathroom laughing his head off the entire time.

"So, how was detention?" Hermione asked as we were all heading down to Transfiguration.

"Oh…you know, how else would it have been? Malfoy and I stuck in a room together for hours…I'm sure you can imagine!" I said laughing.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "I felt sorry for you. You didn't even really do anything wrong. I mean, well, I suppose…"

I wasn't really listening at all to whatever Ron had to say, contributing only with a few subtle nods here and there. I was stuck in my own unpleasant thoughts. The truth was that the detention had definitely not gone as expected. Although Malfoy and I weren't entirely enjoying one another's company…it wasn't unpleasant. It really wasn't. That's the part that scares me. Had it been Crabbe or Goyle, I can most honestly say, it would have been worse. And they only act under his orders, so…why was it so easy dealing with him?

I mean, it's not as though he and I had anything in common. I mean…let's start with looks….well, they're just quite different. Personality? Don't even get me started. But, Ron's my best friend and yet, I almost felt more, well, it felt easier to understand Malfoy. Most of all, I felt he understood me; what I was saying was getting through to him. I'd never felt so connected and…

'Who hasn't?' His words from the night before kept revolving through—in and out of my head as I stared at him in class. I noticed that he didn't look my way once. It's funny how I never noticed just how much we stared toward each other in class. Whether it was in anger, spite….jealousy, we always seemed to be looking. I guess you really don't know what you have until it's gone. Damnit, why won't he just LOOK at me? Maybe a glance, and I'd be fine. I thought we were through with this!

"It's obvious how hard you're trying NOT to, so just…do it. Just send a signal; a glance. Just show me you're not absolutely"

"Mr. Potter? Is there…a problem?" I hadn't realized I'd been speaking aloud. Most of the people around my desk were looking, as well as Professor McGonagall.

"N-no, Professor, there's no problems here. I'll stop muttering to myself." I laughed softly just thinking about how stupid that must have sounded.

She nodded and went along with her lesson. I, of course, had no idea what was being learned in said lesson and would certainly need Hermione's help on the homework, if any.

"Now, being that tomorrow is Saturday and there is no class, I do expect you to be working on your essays. They are due Monday! Good luck and have a nice day," she dismissed.

"There was an essay? Hermione, why didn't you tell me?" I sighed as we walked past the Slytherins we had grown so accustomed to. If only I didn't care so much, he wouldn't be bugging me.

"Harry," Hermione sighed exasperated, "even Ron knew there was one. Where have you been? You've been so distracted lately. I just don't know what to do."

"How about you write it?" I asked hopefully.

Ron laughed taking her hand before she decided to hit Harry. "I most certainly will not!" she said outraged at the mere thought.

"Ah, and I have that stupid date tomorrow! Hermione, it's really cramping my schedule, so…"

"You're going." She demanded. "It will be good for you. Trust me."

I sighed, "Fine, but it's the date or the paper."

"It's both." And I agreed. The sad thing is, even I didn't believe my little ultimatum.

When I sat down in the Common room late that night trying to write the paper, I realized…it wasn't going to happen this way. I was way too distracted! Distraction + no research + unwillingness no essay.

I decided I might take a walk. It was only eight in the evening, after all, and I couldn't get in trouble for that. I took my papers, books, quills, and everything I could possibly need for writing and headed out of the Common Room.

If there's one thing I've noticed with Ron and Hermione becoming a "couple", it's that I've found myself alone a lot of the time, not that I'm complaining. I used to wish from time to time, that I'd just be left alone. It was just a weird feeling to not hear, "Harry, if you leave the room, you'll never be able to do satisfactory work!"

I walked slowly through the empty halls feeling somewhat satisfied at the idea of having no one to look at me, bother me, yell at me for unfinished work, tell me th—

"Potter?" Well, so much for that.

I turned quickly around searching for the voice. "Over here, you dolt."

"Malfoy," I said trying to find his current position. When I did, I narrowed my eyes. The boy doesn't acknowledge my presence during class, but here, when all I want to do is be alone, he finds me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked angrily as though I spoiled his fun.

"What do you mean? You're the one sitting at the bottom of the stairs waiting to stare at people passing by." I said throwing my hands in the air.

"That's not why I'm here!" he yelled. "Actually, Potter, I was not trying to follow people. You passed by."

"Well, you should have let me. Maybe I didn't want to be bothered by you."

"Well, maybe I don't care what you want."

"Well, maybe you should!"

"Well, maybe this is a stupid conversation!"

I laughed, "You're right. It is."

He laughed as well, "Well, okay then, that's never stopped us before, has it?" he asked.

"No, I guess not." I said sitting down next to him on the staircase.

He looked down at his shoes and then back up at me. "How can you stand it?" he asked suddenly. Were we back to this? Were we talking about depressing death subjects again?

"Stand what?" I asked.

He smiled slightly, "You hair." He said simply. "It's always a mess."

I was so shocked at the sudden topic; I almost forgot to be offended. Almost.

"Well, you're…" I looked him up and down trying to find something wrong with him. A misplaced hair, a slightly wrinkled shirt, I would even settle for a misshapen nose, but there was nothing; nothing in his appearance that I could question.

"Well, how can you stand having perfect hair, hmm? It must be…annoying." I finished lamely. He laughed.

"Right, Potter. How annoying that my hair always is perfect. Considering, of course, that I make it that way."

"Yeah…well, that makes sense. Umm, I can't stay. I have to…write…that essay for McGonagall, you know? I'm seriously not doing well." I laughed.

He looked down again and then looked straight up, determinedly not looking me in the eyes. "Want help?" he asked.

I raised my eyebrows, "I—I would say no, but I really need it. So, yes, definitely."

He suddenly looked extremely unhappy. Honestly, why would he offer if he didn't want to do it?

"You don't…have to help me, you know?" I said confusedly. "Though, I would appreciate it. You, being like…the smartest in the grade, besides"

"I'll help." He interrupted. "Just don't act like a mental case telling me how thankful you are." He said frustrated and grabbed my books.

"Well, what you want to do…is make sure, of course, that you have the information. You have to make sure you know where to find it, so…where are your notes?" he asked slowly.

I smiled guiltily, "Yeah, about those…I haven't really had Hermione on hand lately."

He smirked at me, "She takes your notes for you, Potter? How pathetic are you?" He laughed.

He did have a point there. I'm a seventeen year old boy who lets his best friend take his notes…or lend her notes. Same thing. I could at least pay attention in class.

He sighed, "Don't move. I'll get mine."

It took us about an hour and a half, but with his help, I felt like I not only finished it in record time, but understood what he was talking about. Considering I almost never understood half the words that come out of McGonagall's mouth, or any teacher for that matter, this was saying something. Draco Malfoy: The Teacher. Who knew?

It was a quarter to ten and we were still sitting silently on the stairs. It's amazing. I don't want to spend time with my best friends, but sitting silently on a staircase close to ten at night is okay. He seemed to understand the meaning of the word "quiet".

Well, sometimes. Normally, all I got to hear from him was constant insulting, but he was kind of nice to sit around with…in complete silence, I mean. As long as he wasn't talking, I'd be fine spending time with him. Which, of course, may sound mean, but we are never particularly nice to each other in the first place. So, my thoughts are allowed to be mean, I'm sure.

"Malfoy," It wasn't so much that I wanted to hear a response. I wasn't even sure what I had to say. I just couldn't believe the fact that he was here; next to me.

"Hmm?" he drawled out.

"I want to talk about yesterday." I stated slowly.

He turned to face me slowly, "Potter, we had detention. You didn't want silence. Therefore, we talked. That's it."

I went on, ignoring his answer. "About what you said, the lie, what did you mean?"

"We are not talking about this, Potter!" He yelled.

"Yelling after curfew. This is exactly where it started, so calm down before we're stuck in detention again."

"Okay, look, I needed some things said. You were conveniently there when I needed to get some things off my chest, okay?" He began to get defensive. And I knew that, as much as he said he didn't, he wanted to talk about it.

I put my hand on his shoulder and he quickly turned to look into my eyes. "I'm convenient now." I said softly, but with confidence.

That's when Draco Malfoy completely lost his composure. One tear fell down and then he couldn't hold back any longer. He fell into my shoulder muttering some unknown words.

I held onto him. With this gesture, I let him know many things. I let him know that this was between us and I would never tell anyone. I let him know that if he never wanted to speak of it again, I wouldn't make him. Last, but definitely not least, the gesture let him know that no matter how many years of complete hatred and ignorance, no matter how we treat each other in class, no matter how different our lives, personalities, and just different we are, I'll never let him down. When something like this happens, I'll be the one to tell him it's NOT okay. I'll be the one to tell him everything's NOT going to be fine. But, he'll know that I'll do the best I can to make it a little better.

After a few minutes of his pointless muttering of, "I'm not crying" into my shoulder and his tears soaking through my shirt, he detached himself from my arms and leaned back against the staircase as he had been earlier.

"I wasn't," he said slowly calming down, "crying. You know?" he asked. I think he was trying to convince himself that he did not just let me see him weak. I nodded my head.

"I know. I know." Even though it was a lie because he definitely was crying, I wasn't cruel enough to shove it in his face.

"Why are you here?" he asked me confusedly.

"I already told you. I had to write my essay and I couldn't concentrate."

"But…your friends were in there, weren't they?"

I turned my head to the side. I didn't really see what they had to do with it… "Yes…?"

"And you left?" He asked again.

"Obviously," I added.

He shook his head as if he was trying to understand. "You like to be alone?" he asked.

"Well, yes…"I said. "Is that a problem?"

"No, it's just…being alone is overrated, don't you think?"

I shook my head. "Obviously, I don't think that. Although, I'm not sure I would know, considering I never am alone." I laughed. "It sort of comes with being famous and, you know, well-loved. I mean, not TRULY loved, I suppose."

He laughed, appreciating how I made that clear that I had understood our conversation from detention. "I mean, how can they love me if they don't know me?" He nodded.

"Exactly, but what I was saying yesterday is a bit different. But, this is a problem too, I suppose because there are many girls who would give you a marriage proposal simply because you saved the world from doom." He chuckled softly. "Well, I suppose that is a big thing, but…she can love you as a hero, but she doesn't even know you. She doesn't know your personality or…what you like to do. She loves what you've done, not who you are."

"Look at you." I said. "You're saying 'she' as though you personally know of a girl who wants to marry me. You're like trying to predict my future wife!" I said.

"Actually, I'm more trying to predict who you aren't going to marry by giving you the negatives. More than likely, Potter, you're going to marry…I don't know," he laughed, "maybe Granger."

"Malfoy, how many times do I have to tell you! Hermione and I are"

"You're just friends! I know I know. Relax, Potter. Besides, she's with Weasel, isn't she? Oh, right…I believe we've had this conversation before. Let's not go into it. Though, why anyone would want to date Weasel is beyond me…or Granger." He added for good measure, of course.

"Malfoy," I shook my head slowly, though I was laughing all the same, "they are my friends, you know."

"Yes, we've been through that as well." He nodded. "Alright, here, let me set you up with a good one, then. I think your type would be more…um…ah, I got it, Lavender Brown. She's a rather…pretty girl, I suppose." He muttered turning back toward the wall.

"Umm, well, yes, I suppose she's pretty. She's not exactly my type. Well, you hate me anyway, I suppose, so what's the harm in losing your…approval that I never had, I usually don't prefer the pretty girl type if you know what I'm saying."

He raised an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, how did a simple raising of the brow manage to look so condescending. "So, you're saying, you prefer girls to be ugly?"

"Oh, you're funny," I said. "I'm gay."

What I'll never understand is this. It took me so long to admit it to myself. It was so difficult admitting it to my friends, but Malfoy? For some reason, I had absolutely no problem telling him. Maybe it was like I said before; I had no approval of his in the first place.

"Well, I suppose you'll have to break the news to all your 'I want to marry Harry Potter' fans." He said laughing

Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be affected by anything. "Malfoy, you—you're unbelievable. And, I mean this in a bad and good way. You make absolutely no sense to me."

"What? Do you want me to be ass? Do you want me to tell you how awful you are to be gay? Do you want me to say 'goddamn you for ever having the nerve to be attracted to your own sex.' I suppose you want me to act like my old self. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but"

"Malfoy! Just shut-up!" I wasn't so much yelling at him because I was angry.

Mainly, I wanted him to stop because I had started to believe that I had hurt his feelings. Uncontrollably, I let out a laugh. Feelings? Are there any in the boy's body?

"Sorry," I muttered.

He nodded. "That's quite alright."

"But…you have admit, this is weird. I mean, what, are we friends now?"

"No," he answered without hesitation.

I expected the answer, but nonetheless, it still sort of hurt.

He sighed, "I don't…I don't have friends. I'm sorry. I just don't."

I felt myself get a little bit angry. I told him something very personal…and I thought we shared, I don't know, something, and he wouldn't even consider us something. Okay, I suppose he's right. Potter and Malfoy suddenly walk down the hallway as friends. No way.

I got up to leave, "I'll see you," I started to walk down the hall.

"No!" He yelled. "Please…I don't want hatred, okay? I want us to be okay with each other. I mean, you were here when I had my little breakdown, I suppose and that's a side of me…no one knows about. So, I could try it. But, around other people, there's silence, okay? Just…silence."

"Because you're embarrassed by me? Look, I don't"

"No, Po…Harry?" He said slowly as though asking permission. I nodded my head acknowledging the change in pace.

"I'm not embarrassed or whatever. If you want to know the truth, I'm scared. I'm not used…Harry, just accept my terms. I'm not a nice person. I won't treat your friends nicely just because you and I are…friends…" He said it as though the word confused him, "but, I'm willing to be tolerant of you. If you can call that a friendship, I'm in." He smiled. He smiled an actual smile that seemed to light up his face.

The moment I saw that smile on his face, I knew he could actually be a good person to have around…for help on my homework, of course!

(((((love))))Harry---
((((Anger))))Draco