The next weekend, Harry gave in to Hermione and Ron, and went to Hogsmede with them. Although it was a little awkward, as none of them knew what to say, Harry felt very normal. He cherished the feeling.
Harry glanced around at the slightly blurred landscape, the soft green grass was appealing and luscious. "Harry?" he heard, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Harry replied to Ron, "Just dazed out." Ron nodded, before turning to his girlfriend.
The brunet felt excluded, but didn't mind because it gave him time to just look out at the scenery. Most people thought that Harry didn't pay attention to the small details, but he did, in fact that was most of what he did.
For example he knew every single little detail about Draco Malfoy, because Malfoy was his sworn enemy.
When they finally reached the small town, they went right to get a butterbeer. The Homey and cozy bar was full of other Hogwarts students, but not Malfoy.
The students noticed Harry as soon as the trio came in. Their loud conversations turned soft whispers. Harry scowled, before ducking his head to cover his scar and rushed over to the counter.
"Three butterbeers," Hermione requested.
Rosmeta smiled, "Of course, my dear," Her long earrings dangling. The trio grabbed their butterbeers, and went to find a somewhat private table.
As they sat down, none other then Draco walked through the bar with Pansy Parkinson. The Blond glanced around the restaurant cooly, his icy grey eyes observing every little detail.
The Slytherin was adorned in black skinny jeans, (very skinny jeans that showed off his perfect ars-) and a tight t-shirt. Merlin, his arm, the dark mark was black and ugly, but it was surrounded by flowers, beautiful little narcissa flowers.
Malfoy's loose blond hair accented his sharp cheekbones and jawline (Harry would not be having these thoughts again).
"Harry?" he heard a feminine voice from behind him, but he ignored it and instead chose to keep staring at the other boy.
"Probably staring at Malfoy again," A deeper voice replied to Hermione.
"Why would he be doing that?" Hermione inquired at the same time as Harry cried:
"I'm not staring at Malfoy!"
Ron looked at him pointedly, "I'm not staring at Malfoy!" insisted Harry.
"Potter!"
Harry turned to look at the origin of the voice, seeing Malfoy staring at him (for once not glaring), with Parkinson glancing annoyedly at everything but the trio.
Ron scowled, and Hermione hissed softly, but Harry did nothing but give a small nod, "Yes, Malfoy?"
The Slytherin smiled at him, although it looked more like a grimace, "Thank you," Malfoy spoke, each word delicately pronounced with elegance.
Harry quickly scrambled to figure out what Malfoy was saying thank you for, narrowing it down to two things, saving his life, or the basket of scones. "Er. You're welcome," Harry replied, hoping the response would work.
"I'd like to make a truce," the blond requested, as Parkinson sighed dramatically.
"Oh... Why?" Harry stuttered.
Malfoy groaned, "What do you mean why? I saved your life, you saved mine and then you gave me -" the blond then noticed the crowd he was attracting, "Please divert your attention away from me!" he called to the students watching, "I know it's going to be hard, as I am so attractive," Ron and Hermione scowled at each other, "But this is a private conversation!"
The kids looking turned to each other, but did nothing to stop watching. "I said this is a private conversation!"
They still continued to watch.
"Um," Harry stammered, "Please... go back to your conversations!" Although whispers began, all the kids turned away, giving the group a little privacy.
"So truce, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.
"Sure," Harry replied, "Er, yes." He saw Hermione scowl, but ignored it.
"Alright then," responded Malfoy, before turning away, skinny jeans, tattoos and all.
Parkinson glared at Harry, "I don't like this," she snarked, before twirling around and following after the other Slytherin. But Harry wasn't paying attention because he was not staring at Malfoy in his tight, tight jeans.
As the Slytherin duo left the building, the 'golden trio' turned back to each other, sipping their butterbeers.
"Harry?" Hermione demanded, "Why did you say yes? And what did he mean that you gave him something?"
The Gryffindor scowled, "I think it's about time that we got over our petty arguments, Hermione."
"But with him! He called me a... a mudblood, and he was a bully."
"And he constantly insulted my family," Ron interceded, "And poor people."
"That was in the past," protested Harry, "The war changed us all! Plus he's friends with Luna!" At that moment, Luna happened to skip past the restaurant, dragging Ginny behind her. The trio were able to see her through the window of the restaurant.
"Fine," gave up Hermione, and Harry wanted her to argue, like she would had before, "Just be careful."
"I will," Harry muttered, "Don't worry about me," he ducked his head, to cover his scar with his messy hair.
"It's our job to worry," sighed the curly hair girl, turning to her boyfriend and gripping his hand.
"And, mate? Don't become obsessed with him again," Ron mocked, "Once is enough."
"But I was right! He was a Death Eater!" Harry argued.
"Fine. Fine," Ron said, fake giving up, "You win this round, blast you."
/*/*/*/*/*/*
"You really ought to brush your, Potter, it's a fucking mess," Malfoy snobbed, finger tips brushing his own perfect hair.
"My hair is fine," The brunet protested, "Besides, there's nothing I can do to fix it!"
"Trust me, Potter," the blond said, walking through their bathroom door, "If anyone can do it," he returned with several bottles of who knows what, "I can."
"Malfoy-"
"Potter. Your hair is constantly messy and it bothers the hell out of me," he pushed Harry so the brunet was facing him, "Just be thankful I'm not doing your wardrobe, which is atrocious by the way, we'll have to fix that later."
"Malfoy-" Harry started before feeling the Slytherins elegant fingers brushing over his scalp. "Malfoy... is this really necessary?"
"You don't have to see yourself everyday, Potter. So yes, this is really necessary." His hands began putting a cool gel into Harry's long hair.
Soon silence occupied the room, the Gryffindor wanted to say something, but knew that if he tried, he would only embarrass himself. Malfoy's hands continued to smooth and brush through his hair, and Harry was finding very hard to concentrate.
"Merlin, Potter," Malfoy said, words the tiniest bit shaky, and if Harry was observant, he wouldn't had noticed, "Your hair is so fucking annoying, it doesn't cooperate at all."
"I told you, but you insisted. 'Potter! Potter! Your hair! Its so horrible. I don't know how I'm going to sur-"
"Shut up Potter! Your hair is horrible, and I thought we had a truce."
"We do have a truce. This is what friends do idiot."
"Normally I just tell my Slytherins what they do, and they do it."
"Malfoy, that is not friendship."
Malfoy changed the subject quickly, "So we're friends?"
"Well... um... we've been 'truced' for weeks," Harry stuttered, "So I'm pretty sure that's friends? I mean... if you want to be?"
"Will you do everything I say?"
"No!"
"Fine, friends."
"Why? I'm not going to do whatever you say."
"Call it morbid curiosity."
"Are you done with my hair yet?"
"Nearly."
Harry sighed, "Hurry up."
"I'm done. Merlin, Potter, someones impatient." Malfoy walked him into the bathroom, forcing him to look into the mirror. Harry's hair was slick back and neat, not a hair out of place.
"I-"
"I want to thank you, Draco, because you are so kind and amazing and fixed my hair and made me look like I didn't just get out of bed for the first time in forever!"
Harry continued to stare at himself, tugging on his sleeves, missing the warmth of Malfoy's hands. "T... Thanks."
Malfoy through up his hands, "Of course thats all I get. A thank you!"
"I'm sorry Malfoy, let me bow at your feet," replied Harry sarcastically as he brushed his hands softy over his organised hair.
Malfoy pushed him out the door, "Go! Go show off your hair! Get some ladies, and make sure to tell them who did your hair!"
"But-"
Malfoy cut him off, "I did not spend my precious time on your hair just for you to stay in here. Go!"
Harry sighed, "Fine," before slowly moping out of the room, making it known that he did not want to be doing this.
When he entered the common room, at first no one saw him but then Hermione called, "Harry! Your hair!"
"Credit to Malfoy!" A voice from within Harry's room said.
"You let Malfoy do your hair?" Ron asked.
Harry scratched his head. "Yeah?" he replied.
"Why?" Hermione exclaimed.
Harry crossed his arms, "I really didn't have choice-"
"You should be thanking me Granger! I did you a favour! Now it does hurt to look at him... as much."
"Malfoy! If you're going to yell out of your room, you should at least come out here!" Hermione yelled, as the Slytherin crawled out of the room.
"I'm sorry about your... your mum Malfoy," Ron said to the Slytherin awkwardly.
Immediately Malfoy's face went blank and dark, "I don't need your pity, after all, I have more money then all you and your family combined-"
"You don't need to be so rude, Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, gripping her boyfriends hand.
"Don't tell me what to do, you Mudblood-"
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted at the same time as Ron yelled:
"Don't speak to Hermione like that!" Ron made to move towards Malfoy, but Hermione pulled him back.
"If you are going to be rude, then you must leave," the Gryffindor girl growled.
"I was leaving anyway, your company makes me want to jump off the astronomy tower," The Slytherin replied hotly before twirling around, "See you around, Potter," He snobbed one last time before exiting the common room with a flourish.
"How are you friends with him?" sputtered Hermione.
"I honestly don't know," Harry responded.
"Wait you're friends with him?" Ron asked, "I thought it was just a truce?"
"Well obviously they've become friends," Hermione chided, "After all, Harry did let him do his hair."
"Even though he's a pompous asshole?" Ron exclaimed.
"Well maybe if you hadn't brought up his mother," Harry insisted, "he wouldn't have been so rude."
"So you're taking his side?" grumbled Ron, putting a protective arm around his girlfriend.
"I'm not taking anyone's side Ron!" shouted Harry.
"Can we all calm down please," Hermione pleaded, placing a hand on each boy's arm.
"Okay. Fine. I'm sorry, Harry, I just hate that bastard," Ron responded.
"Okay," repeated the brunet, before racing out of the room away from them. He couldn't do it. "Okay." He heard their murmurs as he ran, heard their pity and concern. He hated it. He ran to the Astronomy tower, hoping Malfoy wasn't there (and hoping he was at the same time).
As Harry ran, he heard that music again, coming from a mysterious room that didn't seem to exist. Once again, Harry stopped to listen, finding it enchanting and beautiful, almost siren like.
Instead of going to the tower like he had originally planned, he instead just sat down in the hallway and listened. The music was like emotion, it was so beautiful, Harry couldn't even begin to describe what it sounded like.