So far:
Draco Malfoy is the quintessential Slytherin. He's ambitious, cunning and sly, unlike most of his housemates, who are there only because of the pure blood that flows through their veins. But that's not to say that he doesn't take more than a little pride in his heritage. However, self-preservation is important, and if that means being polite and civil to the Girl Who Lived, so be it.
Warnings: Unbeta-ed, as usual. :)
Genre: Friendship; Romance; Humour
NOTEWORTHY BOREDOM
CHAPTER 3
DRAWING ATTENTION
On Sunday morning, Harriet was about seventy percent sure that she hated Malfoy. As Hermione rattled on about how this 'High Inquisitor' thing would affect their standard of education, Harry couldn't help but think of Malfoy's warning in the Slytherin changing rooms yesterday.
Harry imagined a balance with a needle pointing to the heavier side. Every time he did something to help her, she decided to add a 'mental' gold coin to the left side of the balance, while every time he did something to unnecessarily aggravate her, she decided to add a 'mental' silver coin to the right of the balance.
And right now, the needle was pointing to the right side.
He had nullified the gold coins for the 'warning', simply by turning up at the Quidditch pitch yesterday with his cronies and the rest of the Slytherin team. They had proceeded to mock the practising Gryffindor team, and Malfoy had incessantly insulted both Ron and her.
And for some reason, she could remember most of his stupid insults.
What's that Weasley's riding? Why would anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?
Gryffindor are losers! Gryffindor are losers! To be honest, that tune had got stuck in her head.
And then there was that insult about her scar.
Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling? Sure you don't need a lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that's a record for you, isn't it?
Somehow, for the first time ever, Malfoy's snide remarks hurt her. She had felt a telltale pricking in her eyes, and had been unsure about what she was to do. At that exact moment, though, Angelina had passed the Quaffle to Harry, and Harry had thrown it with all her might at the blond head on the ground, her hurt turning into anger.
Unfortunately, Malfoy had seen it coming and had moved away. The Quaffle had only hit him on the shoulder, and while he was screaming exaggeratedly about his grievous injury, Parkinson had glared at her and told her to stay away from her Drakie-poo.
Apart from Quidditch practice being a disaster, last night in the common room had been an absolute nightmare. Ron and Hermione had fought as usual, though they had made up over Astronomy homework. Percy's owl (also named Hermes) had brought his pretentious letter, which had asked Ron to stay away from Harriet. Secretly, Harriet had been very touched by Ron's reaction.
But more importantly, she and Sirius had fought over the latter's recklessness. When Harriet had tried to explain to him that the Malfoys knew he was in London, Sirius had started comparing her to her father. And right now, she was not sure if they were on talking terms.
And Sunday morning breakfast had been effectively ruined, by the Prophet's headlines. Students all over the Great Hall were whispering loudly, clutching newspapers in their hands as they read the news in groups.
She caught Malfoy's eye, and when he faintly nodded at her, she turned her face away. What did he want now, a note of thanks? At that moment, though, a roll of parchment appeared beside her plate.
.
'Dear Note-Passer,
I am aware that yesterday's remarks were hurtful, but I assure you, they were not meant to be. On a more serious note, how is the hand feeling? It has scarred, hasn't it? I'm surprised your female friend hasn't done something about it.
Unless you didn't tell her?
Your amazing lover,
Bad Foie Gras'
.
Harriet crumpled the note and stuffed it into her jeans pocket. She did not want Ron to react the way he had done the last time, because this time around, she was sincerely going to try to not draw any attention to herself.
However, she noted Hermione looking at her, with her eyebrows drawn together. Harry sighed. Eventually, she would have to tell Hermione. But till then, it was her secret to keep.
When she caught Malfoy's eye once again before leaving the Great Hall, she nodded at him, and he nodded back at her, his silvery grey eyes looking strangely mirthful.
She was only sixty-five percent sure that she hated him.
OoOoO
That night, Draco was sitting on his favourite stuffed sofa in the Slytherin common room, supposedly writing his Astronomy essay with Blaise. He had expected Potter to reply to his apologetic note, but there had been no reply from the girl.
However, he had thought too soon, for an owl swooped in through the only window of the Slytherin common room and landed next to him. It was an ordinary school owl, and it had a clumsily rolled piece of parchment in its talons.
.
'Dear Drakie-poo,
Was that supposed to be an apology? Well, it was a rotten one.
Anyway, I didn't tell my female friend as I didn't want her to worry. However, my male friend is aware of it... I have no idea why I just wrote that. And I'm too lazy to start a new note.
Thanks for the warning. I thought you hated me, but I'm guessing my amazing conversation skills in French won you over.
Sincerely,
Possible Dungbomb Order-er.
P.S. How did you get a note to appear on the table this morning at breakfast?'
.
Draco smirked at the note, glad to have gotten the note before he went to sleep. He looked up to see that the owl had already flown out. He then caught Blaise looking at him curiously.
"What, Blaise?"
"That note seems to have made you extremely happy."
"Are you high from Gillyweed?" he asked his friend, folding the note and keeping it carefully in his Astronomy textbook, at the chapter about the constellation Draco.
"Is it Potter, Draco? Did you finally tell her you like her?"
"I'm going to sleep, Zabini. Goodnight," said Draco, standing up with all his things packed.
"It's dangerous, wouldn't you say? Lucius would have a fit."
Draco walked to his room, trying not to think of his father. Instead, he tried to appreciate the amazing architecture of the Slytherin House living quarters.
He immensely appreciated the fact that each Slytherin got their own room. He immensely appreciated the fact that the Slytherin living quarters had such high ceilings. He immensely appreciated the fact that the bedrooms were actually carved out of stone, and that they were beneath the Black Lake. He immensely appreciated the fact that despite there being only one window for over seventy-odd students, the air circulation was brilliant. He immensely appreciated the greenness of the entire place.
Of course, nothing would match the greenness of Potter's eyes... Draco spat out the paste from his mouth and stared at himself in his bathroom mirror.
Was it possible that Blaise was right?
What would his father say, if he heard about it?
OoOoO
For the first time in her entire life, Harriet Jillian Potter was looking forward to a History of Magic class. Hermione was stunned to see her best friend shovel down the boiled eggs at that speed; after all, that sort of behaviour was expected out of Ron.
"Harriet? What's the hurry?"
"Hurry? What hurry?" Harriet tried to deflect the question by changing topics. "I think the eggs are cooked brilliantly today."
Ron nodded his approval. "I swear the bacon is better than ever," he said, managing to spit out pieces of bacon everywhere, in the process.
Hermione turned her attention on him, glaring as she said, "Learn to chew with your mouth closed, Ronald!"
However, when they got up from the table to go to History of Magic, Hermione pulled Harry aside, and whispered in the raven-haired girl's ear, "Don't think you've fooled me, Harry."
Harry shook off Hermione's hand, before saying coolly, "I have no clue what you're talking about."
She walked away before the brunette could catch up with her. After all, she planned to catch the last seat in History of Magic.
When Harriet reached the classroom with Ron, she realised that they were the first students to assemble there. Even Professor Binns had not entered the room. As she kept her books and her bag on the last desk, Ron sat down heavily at the same table.
"Brilliant place, Harry. Great for sleeping. Thanks." With that, he put his head on his desk and went to sleep, much to Harry's amazement.
Hermione came in a few minutes later, and scowled when she saw Harry and Ron sitting at the last bench. In an act of defiance, she went and sat in the first bench. Harry rolled her eyes at this, feeling that Hermione had a tendency to overreact a tad too much.
Feeling drowsy, Harriet too put her head down and dozed off.
She was woken up by a sharp poke to her ribs. She opened her eyes blearily, to realise that the roll call was going on. When she looked to her right, she was surprised to find Malfoy there, twirling his wand in those gorgeously long fingers of his.
Wait... WHAT?
WHAT HAD SHE JUST THOUGHT?
She tried to shake the sleep out of her head, failing to realise that her name had been called. When Malfoy poked her once again, she glared at him, before calling out, "Present, sir."
When the ghost came down to Weasley, feeling sorry for her friend, she answered his attendance as well. It was not as if Professor Binns noticed this kind of stuff. However, Hermione noticed it, and turned around in her seat to glare at her. Harry cheekily stuck out her tongue at her, and Hermione turned away, rolling her eyes.
By then, the ghost had finished the attendance call, with the name Zabini. Zabini seemed to have been waiting just for this, as he loudly hit his desk with his head. Harry caught Malfoy rolling his eyes at his partner's behaviour, before she turned her attention to the rest of the class.
Professor Binns rolled up the scroll with the names and immediately started a lecture on the importance of magical weapons in Goblin revolts, just as most of the students put their heads down and promptly went to sleep.
Neville, of course, was staring at Parvati, while Parvati was staring withdisgust at Seamus, who had his head on his table, with his mouth slightly open. Lavender and Dean were throwing appreciative looks at each other, and Harry felt sick seeing the coy looks they were exchanging.
Surprisingly, Hermione was sitting next to a Slytherin. Harry wasn't sure if the name was Davis or Travis. She was the only other creature taking notes in History of Magic. Harry sighed and looked to her right.
She was surprised to find Malfoy looking at her with an eyebrow quirked. She shrugged at him as a way of greeting.
He reached across the narrow aisle, and placed a neatly folded piece of parchment on her desk.
.
'That's the only apology you'll ever get from me.
I still hate you. But I don't mind teaching you French.
House elves. I used house elves to get that note to you.'
.
Harriet rolled her eyes once again, before flipping the parchment over to write her response.
'House elves? That's pretty clever of you... Never thought I'd see the day where I'd call a Slytherin 'clever'... Why does your offer to teach me French sound dubious?'
His reply, on a new, and long piece of parchment, was prompt.
'Here are the basics. Oui means yes. Non means no. Can your Gryffindor brain manage that?'
Harry glared at the parchment, before scrawling hurriedly under his neat handwriting.
'What is French for 'fuck you', Malfoy?'
The blond git smirked, before writing his reply with his eagle feather quill.
'Had I known you were this eager to jump into bed, I would have started writing to you sooner.'
When she read that, she simply handed the parchment back to him, without deigning to look at him.
But soon, the parchment was back in front of her.
'Let's start with simple oui-non questions. The reply to the following question is a 'yes'.
Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?'
Harry's eyes narrowed at that line of French. She turned to look at Malfoy, who had a nonchalant look on his face. She knew something was up.
She wrote a one-word reply.
'NON.'
She heard Malfoy snort when he read her reply. And somehow, Malfoy even made snorting look dignified.
'Damn, you're smart every now and then. Don't worry. I'll turn it into an oui someday.'
Harry shook her head. She had a feeling she could guess what that sentence meant.
'In your dreams, Drakie-poo.'
Harriet looked at him as he read the parchment. He looked at her, shook his head, and wrote a reply.
'Stop calling me that! Je m'appelle Draco.'
Harriet grinned at that, sensing a way to make that idiot feel uncomfortable.
'Does that mean I can call you Draco?'
His eyebrow quirked at that, as he read it. And then, he smirked as he wrote a reply.
'Only if I can call you Harriet.'
Harriet felt her ears burning, as he continued to smirk at her.
Thankfully, she was saved from replying, as the bell rang, signifying the end of the hour.
OoOoO
Harriet knew that Snape hated her because of her father. So Harriet felt justified in hating him back. After all, that greasy git had been targeting her since her first class. Which was why what happened in class today was not very surprising.
Professor Snape swooped in like an overgrown bat, handing out their moonstone essays. Harry's had a large spiky, black 'D' scrawled in an upper corner. Harry knew for a fact that she deserved a 'B' or a 'C', at the least. She had, after all, written a pretty decent essay.
"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL. This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in the examination."
Going back to the front of the class, he continued, "The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get a 'D'.
Snape smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, "Some people got a 'D'? Ha!"
Harry hastily stuffed her homework in, which Malfoy noticed. He smirked at her, knowing well why she was stuffing hers in. She rolled her eyes at him.
So instead, she tried to keep her head down and work hard on her potion. After all, she was trying not to draw much attention to herself.
After handing over her flask of somewhat okay Strengthening Solution, as the three of them made their way out into the crowded corridor, she felt something bump into her. Something was pressed into her hand. A blond head was seen walking away fast.
At the Gryffindor table, when they were joined by Fred, George and Lee Jordan, Hermione continued her monologue about grades and how she wanted top grade. Ron was getting annoyed at her for trying to wheedle his grade out of him, and was snapping at her.
Deciding that her friends were sufficiently distracted, she opened the note under the table.
.
'Dear HARRIET,
I figured your Muggle-brain might not understand the OWL standards of grading:
Pass grades:
O - Outstanding (What I got)
E - Exceeds Expectations
A - Acceptable
Fail grades:
P - Poor (What your male friend got)
D - Dreadful (What you got)
T - Troll
If you have used the book I suggested, your essay would deserve an "E".
~ Your amazing lover'
.
So in other words, she had been failed by the malicious Slytherin Head of House.
And Hermione was just learning about the OWL grading system from the Twins. Ha! For once she knew something before Hermione! However, Harry's inner gloating was cut short by Ron.
"Hermione. If you want to know what grades we got, ask," said Ron sharply.
"I don't - I didn't mean - well, if you want to tell me -"
"I got a 'P'. Happy?" Ron asked, ladling soup into his bowl.
But Lee Jordan interrupted before Hermione could continue, "Still better that a 'D', isn't it?"
Harry felt her face grow warm and faked a small coughing fit over her roll.
Somehow, the conversation topic moved to inspected lessons and Harry felt herself relax. And then George partially ruined her mood.
"Well, be a good girl and keep your temper with Umbridge today. Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."
But Harry had inherited Lily Evans' fiery temper, which was why she managed to find herself with another week's detention with Umbridge.
OoOoO
That Gryffindor was an idiot. Draco had no idea why he was even willingly interfering in that dumb female's affairs. Hadn't he warned her not to draw attention to herself?
He leaned against the wall, two corridors away from Umbridge's room, and waited for Potter to get out of detention. It was past eleven, already. Wasn't there a rule to end all detentions by ten in the night?
He heard hurried footsteps, and then he saw Harriet Potter hurrying down the corridor. She was obviously trying not to cry, but tears had made their way down her face.
She saw him and stopped walking. Draco strode over to her and picked up her right hand. The cuts were bleeding again, and the even in the dim corridor lighting, he could make out what they said.
I must not tell lies.
He took out his wand, and uttered the Loksomnum spell. When he looked up, he witnessed the sweetest smile he had ever seen on Potter's face. And it was all for him.
He felt a fluttery feeling in his stomach, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he took out his handkerchief, and wrapped it around her hand gently.
When he realised that he was still holding her hand, with a dash of Gryffindor recklessness, he lifted up the still bleeding hand to his face, and pressed his lips on the plain skin above the now blood-soaked cloth.
He heard her gasp. Smirking, he looked up at her blushing face, as she said, "I didn't feel that!"
"Which means the spell is working fine."
Obviously, the side-effects of the spell had made her tongue loose.
"And also. I wasn't crying. Can't give Umbridge the satisfaction of knowing that it hurts."
He let go of her hand, and wiped away the tears from her face using his thumbs, the way his mother had once done when he was a five-year old.
"You weren't crying, Harriet."
The name felt foreign, coming out of his mouth, but somehow, he liked it. Of course, the best name for her was Potthead. But Harriet came a close second.
Feeling uncharacteristically chivalrous, he took her books-bag from her, and started walking her towards the main staircase, knowing that the Gryffindor common room was supposedly in a tower.
However, she stopped at a place where the corridor led to a staircase, and also branched into two. She took her bag from him, and climbed on to the first stair.
"I can't risk showing you the entrance to my common room."
"Fine, it's not like I don't know where it is. I am a Prefect."
"Only the Head Boy and Head Girl know where all the common rooms are, you liar."
"Fine. If that's how you thank your wizard in shining robes, I'll just leave."
Draco took the corridor to his right, planning to hide and see where Potter went. He would be a hero in the Slytherin common room if he could exactly point out the location of the Gryffindorks' living quarters.
And also, it made sense to misdirect her into believing that the Slytherin common room was in this direction.
A voice called out from behind him in an almost singsong manner. "I know that's not the corridor to the Slytherin common rooms. It's the other way around."
Stunned, he turned around and made his way back to the staircase. How did she know that he had been going in the wrong direction, on purpose?
Feeling blindsided, he asked without thinking, "How do you know where the Slytherin common room is?"
"Why, Ferret, you were the one who took me into your snake pit!" she exclaimed in an exaggerated manner.
In a manner that would have embarrassed his Grandma Malfoy had she been alive, Draco spluttered out, "W-What!"
Potter simply smiled at him and changed topics. "Thanks for helping me out, my wizard in shining robes." And then she added, "No, seriously, thank you."
Draco nodded his head, knowing that he wouldn't get any information from her. "You owe me."
"I know."
"Good night," he called out, taking the corridor to his left, this time.
A soft voice called out to him, "Good night, Draco."
OoOoO
AN:
Option A it is. :)
And I'm posting this chapter to celebrate life in general. Care diem. *throws hands up in the air and dances to a random DNCE song*
Reviews are love! (Encourage me to finish a chapter by this Saturday, please?)
Thank you Glimmande Solsken, noneofmyshipssail, ms. potterclearwaterdiangelo, endlessnotebooks, Nataly SkyPot, Raven097, Captain CV, Littlest1, harryislife, TamashinoSuzume, ptl4ever419, lumusmaxima77, Ern Estine 13624, thestarsinthesky13, saku hyuuga, Ggiannoyla, Hikari. Kuro1994, RegdirbArze EzraBridger, TofuNinjaCat, DreamingOfForeverAfter, steffon22, Ashies and BrownieTheFangirl for reading and reviewing. :)
Guest Review Responses:
Bloomnskyrules: Draco's not falling in love... Yet. I can't wait for the chapter where they realise that what they feel for each other is more than just friendship. ;) I think for now, Cho won't be spreading gossip, seeing as she's still grieving Cedric. But come DA meetings, things are bound to get interesting. :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! :)
Guest (1): Here's another chapter. :) Thanks!
Guest (2): I know I haven't updated in a month, but the 4th chapter should be out soon, probably next Sunday? I don't plan on doing a flashback scene because I think I might end up using ideas I've already used in this other story of mine which is a collection of Drarriet drabbles. But do look out for when Draco teases Harriet about the ball. ;) And yes, Draco will get a little less Pureblood happy, but not for a long time. What he thinks of Muggleborns has been ingrained in him since birth, yes? Paradigm shifts take time. Thank you so so much for reading and reviewing. :)
TouchDouche: Thanks!
Sil: Here's an update, love. :)
Bristol: The Blacks were definitely a little more than dark. It's right up their alley to come up with a torturous writing utensil. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)