7 Sept 1991 - Saturday
The prefect Gordon Billock, in charge of the boys dorms, was met by a gentle fog of goose feathers and down as he opened the door to Harry and Draco's dorm. He'd been sent by their Head of House to check on the two boys who had not made it to breakfast.
"Up! Up!" snarled Gordon. Taking out his wand, he splashed each boy with a chilling Aguamenti Charm.
Draco and Harry shot awake, both screeching from the chill water. They scrambled from their beds, wiping the sleep from their eyes.
"It's Saturday!" Draco snapped angrily. "I always sleep in late on Saturdays!"
"Not any more you don't, Malfoy. Breakfast is at 9am on Saturdays and you know the rule: No meals are to be skipped and you both missed breakfast." He looked around at all the feathers. "The professor wanted you, Potter, to meet him at 10am in the Entrance Hall. I don't think that's..."
"Yes it will be!" Harry interrupted. "We can get this clean!" Harry glanced worriedly at Draco who just shrugged.
"Tempus," Gordon said as he waved his wand. He studied the glowing numbers that appeared just in front of him. "You both have a half hour. Get to it!"
Harry started scooping up the feathers the second Gordon had left their dorm. For several minutes Draco watched with a slight puzzled sneer.
"He didn't say we had to do it the Muggle way, Harry," Draco finally declared.
Harry stood up. "What? How else are we going to clean this?"
"Summon a house elf."
Harry's eyes widened. "We're not s'posed to do that, Draco!"
"Like anyone's gonna know," Draco huffed. "House elf!"
To Harry's astonishment, a short, brown-skinned little being with a large head and skinny arms and legs wearing a tea towel embroidered with the Hogwarts crest popped into their dorm.
"Young Masters summon Girty?" the house elf smiled and bobbed his head.
Draco ordered, "Clean this mess up."
"No! Don't!" Harry cried out. The house elf was about to snap his fingers, but stopped at Harry's order.
"Harry!" groused Draco.
"It's against the rules!" Harry's voice broke as he shouted back.
"It's a stupid rule!" Draco shouted right back.
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
Draco's temper went through the dungeon roof and he leapt upon Harry and started punching him. There was thumping on the stairs as Gordon slammed into the dorm. He grabbed the nearest boy, Draco, and pulled him off of Harry who was curled up into a ball, protecting his head. Knowing without seeing that his attacker was gone, Harry, still retaining his rolled up hedgehog shape, scrambled between the side of his bed and the night table.
"Corner, Malfoy!" snapped Gordon. When it looked like Draco was going to protest, Gordon glared, "NOW!"
Draco stomped over to the corner by his bed and faced it with his arms crossed over his chest and a dark frown upon his face.
Gordon bent over Harry who was whispering so rapidly that Gordon couldn't understand what the little boy was saying. He crouched down. "Potter? You okay?"
"P-please don't hit me!" he whimpered.
Gordon stood and backed away. He saw the house elf who was still awaiting orders. "Go get Professor Snape. Tell him that there's something wrong with Potter."
With a pop, the house elf was gone.
Hearing his friend's whimper, Draco's anger vanished and he turned around but remained in the corner. "Is Harry all right?"
Gordon didn't take his eyes off Harry, but spoke softly. "Draco, I think you'd better go down to the common room. Go on."
Draco was reluctant to leave, but Gordon was so much bigger than him, so he left the dorm and headed down the spiral staircase to the common room.
Just as Draco entered the common room, Snape came bursting through Salazar's portrait. He stopped to speak to no one, going up the stairs and directly to Harry and Draco's dorm. Snape did not see Draco following a few steps behind him.
Upon entering the dorm he was struck by all the feathers that were everywhere. "What in Merlin's...? Mr. Billock! What's been going on here?"
Gordon turned sharply at the sound of his Head of House's voice. "Sir, the room was like this when I came up here to wake the two kids. I told them they had to get the room and themselves cleaned up and then I left. Just a few minutes later, I heard shouts and came up to see what was going on, and Potter and Malfoy were rolling around on the floor, fighting. When I pulled Draco off of Harry..." He glanced down at the still curled up figure. "He asked me not to hit him, sir."
"You have done well, Mr. Billock. Clear everyone out of the common room, if you would? I shall take care of Mr. Potter."
Gordon nodded and then left the dorm. Draco ducked behind the open door so Gordon didn't see him. Surreptitiously he watched as Snape carefully approached the little boy.
"Mr. Potter..." began Snape.
Harry somehow managed to wedge himself tighter into his nook. "Please, I'm sorry!"
"Pot... Harry. Hush. Do you know who I am?" Harry blinked at the man in the black clothing as he crouched down in front of him. Snape approached to within a few feet before he stopped in a semi-crouch. "It is..." he blanked. What was it Poppy had said Harry had called him? he asked himself. Oh yes... that was it! "Harry, it is I, the Dark Man."
Harry blinked several times before letting out a large sigh. "Dark Man?" he asked softly.
"Yes, Harry." Snape was suddenly bowled out of his crouch and onto his backside as the small boy threw himself at the Potions Master and wrapped his arms and legs around the fallen man.
Snape did his best to adjust his position as he immediately realised there was no way he was going to be able to peel the boy off of him. Stroking the little boy's hair and patting his back, Snape began to rock back and forth.
"P-p-professor?" came a very tremulous voice from the door.
Snape couldn't turn to look, but he did recognise the voice. "Mr. Malfoy..." Harry's body tensed sharply as Snape's voice hissed. Snape calmed his tone and then spoke more softly, "Mr. Malfoy, come over here so I can see you."
Draco shuffled over until he stood in front of Snape and Harry. Like Harry, he was still in his pyjamas and his feet were bare. "What's wrong with Harry?" Draco asked and Snape realised the smaller Malfoy was ready to break down in tears as well.
"Before I can determine that, Mr. Malfoy, I need to know what happened here. Be thorough, and do not leave out a single detail." Snape's voice was soft, but there was a tinge of firmness that Draco could tell was a lot like his father's voice when he was in trouble with Lucius.
Draco shuffled his feet, and then recited, "Last night, me 'n Harry had a pillow fight and since we got tired, we just went to bed. Prefect Billock woke us up this morning and he was mad at all the feathers and told us we had to clean them up and get dressed." Draco's eyes shot upwards, then back down to his Head of House. "Then we... uhm... we were just fighting... and..."
"You have left out part of your story, Mr. Malfoy. If you do not want to be cleaning cauldrons your entire weekend, you had better inform me of the details you are clearly trying to avoid."
Snape's voice underlined the threat with silken death.
Draco stammered. "Y-y-yes, sir! I didn't... didn't want to pick up all the feathers and I haven't learned c-c-cleaning spells, yet, so I s-s-summoned an elf to do it." Draco paled as the Potions professor's eyes both darkened and narrowed. He gulped. "H-h-h-harry tried to remind me of the r-r-rules but I didn't listen and... and when he shouted at me I just... I just started hitting him. B-b-but he never hit back!" Two twin tears began sliding down Draco's cheeks.
In his head, Snape quickly counted to ten. Then he did so twice more. He sincerely wanted to yell at the stupid child before him, but in Harry's fragile state, he didn't dare. He took a breath and then whispered, "Mr. Malfoy, get your clothes and shoes, go down to Prefect Billock and tell him you need to use his shower. I then want you to get dressed, have some breakfast, and then stay with the Prefect until I come get you."
Draco knew to hesitate in obeying would get him in worse trouble. He darted for his wardrobe, grabbed some clothing, and was out of the room before Snape had a chance to blink.
Snape sighed. Using a Featherlight Charm on the boy, he was now able to get up off the floor and carry Harry over to his bed. Snape sat down and carefully loosened the child's arms and legs.
"Harry? It is all right. You and I are the only ones here." He caught the boy's chin in his hand and gently angled it up so he could better see the tear-stained face. Harry sniffled and before he could wipe the mess upon his sleeve, Snape conjured a handkerchief for the child.
Harry blew his nose and then wiped his eyes with a clean corner of the handkerchief. Snape vanished the soiled piece of linen and conjured another. This one Harry crumpled nervously in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon. I tried really hard not to hit Dudley. I didn't hurt him, did I?"
Dudley? Uncle Vernon. Those damned Muggles! Snape eyed the little boy in his arms. He stared down into the green eyes that he'd known so well as a child and a teenager. They were slightly glazed and his expression, though contrite, was afraid and confused. So very like Lily, his mind murmured.
"Harry. Look at me." There was no response so Snape drew the boy's gaze until he could only look at him. "Harry. I am not your uncle. Can you tell me where we are?"
Slowly Harry's green gaze focused on his teacher. Harry blinked. He wasn't entirely sure. He thought that for a moment he was at his aunt and uncle's house, but... carefully he looked around and slowly shook his head. This wasn't Privet Drive. Harry shook his head and buried his face in Snape's shoulder.
Snape sighed as he eased the small boy's head from his shoulder. "I need an answer, child. Where are we?"
Harry's voice hitched, "I d-don't know, sir."
Snape caught the boy before he buried his head again. "I want you to take a good look around. I believe you do know where we are."
Hesitantly Harry looked around the room. He frowned at the feathers on the floor and the rumpled bedding that was on both beds. As he blinked he began to remember other things: the Sorting in the Great Hall, sitting with Draco and making two more new friends, the girl Prefect showing him Slytherin House. He sighed as, like puzzle pieces snapping perfectly together, it all came back to him.
"Hogwarts. And we're in my dorm in Slytherin." His face paled at the sight of all the feathers and then he looked worriedly at Snape.
Snape smiled. "We'll deal with the feathers later, Harry. Can you remember why you and Draco were fighting?"
"He called...!" Harry stumbled. Draco had been blatantly breaking the rules in calling for the house elf, but if he told, Draco would stop being friends with him. He couldn't jeopardise that! Draco was his FIRST friend!
Harry pulled away from Snape and scrambled into the centre of his bed. "We weren't fighting. We... uhm... just had an argument over how to clean up the feathers. Sir."
"I'll have you know, Mr. Potter, that in all my years of teaching I have learned to discern fiction from fact." Harry stared at his Head of House. "Would you care to know the consequences of lying to your Head of House?" Snape asked nonchalantly.
Harry flinched slightly," Wh-what consequences?" Harry asked nervously.
Snape caught the boy's gaze with his own and spoke solemnly, "I will never hurt you, Harry. I promise you that you'll never be punished the way your uncle used to punish you."
In puzzlement Harry frowned, "Then, what do you do, sir?"
"Lying and bad language will earn you the washing out of your mouth with a spell. If you'll recall when you were in the Infirmary, Madame Pomfrey used it on Mr. Goyle." Harry smirked a little at the memory. "If you disobey the House rules, or do not do something I tell you to do you can lose points or earn detention."
"You... you don't..." Harry couldn't even say it, but Snape had an idea he knew what Harry meant to ask.
"There are rumours that I tend to take a cane or a ruler to a recalcitrant child, now and then, in my detentions, but that is only a rumour. I do not believe in corporal punishment."
"Corpor... what, sir?" frowned Harry.
"Spanking, Mr. Potter." Snape smirked at his Snake. "I do not, as I have said to you before, believe in raising my hand to a child."
Snape shifted on Harry's bed and gave him a stern look. "Now, would you care to revise your story about what caused the fight in here, or should I...?" Snape's wand was in his hand as he prepared to cast the Mouth Washing Charm.
Harry rapidly shook his head. "I wasn't lying!" Harry didn't want his mouth washed out, and his stomach tied into a tighter knot knowing that he was lying to Snape. He just didn't want to get his friend into trouble.
Snape regarded the young boy carefully. One didn't need to be a Legilimens to see in Harry's body language that he was lying to the Potions Master. He would not meet Snape's eyes, there was just a shine of sweat upon his upper lip, his hands were busy wringing the blanket, and, most obvious, he was protesting his denial too vehemently.
What concerned Snape was the reason for the lie in the first place, and why hadn't Draco lied to save his own skin as he usually did?
Draco did not have a sterling history in regards to having friends. It wasn't due to a lack for trying, but the smallest Malfoy had grown up around the children of Death Eaters and they, like their parents, were a paranoid group. Making up a lie to save your own skin came nearly as natural as breathing. Draco was not the accomplished liar that many of his contemporaries were and Snape, who took care of his Snakes, had honed his ability to determine if a child were lying without the use of his Legilimens skill.
Knowing that he had such skill, and that Lucius was also quite accomplished at seeing through falsehood, did not stop Draco from trying. He had the inherent nature of self-preservation, and many times the smallest Malfoy earned himself a warmed bottom for lying to his father.
It was a great mark in Draco's favour that he truly felt Harry to be a true friend and that he held their friendship in such high esteem that he was willing to tell the truth in order to help his friend, regardless of the fact that telling the truth would get him in trouble.
Harry's own feelings in regards to his friendship with Draco were, quite obviously, of the same calibre since he was willing to take a punishment to protect his friend.
Snape sighed, hiding well the satisfaction that the two boys friendship gave him. "While I find it admirable that you are willing to protect your friend, Mr. Potter..." Harry let out a slight sound of protest, but Snape held up his hand to stop him. "Allow me to finish, if you would?" Harry clamped his mouth shut. His lips thinned, but he nodded quickly. "As I was about to say, Mr. Malfoy has already explained the circumstances behind the fight." Harry's mouth relaxed and his green eyes widened. "I would like for you to confirm his story."
Harry hesitated. Had Draco really told the truth? The professor had not said what Draco had told him. What if the professor was lying? Adults lied to children all the time. Harry had even noted that his Aunt and Uncle, who doted terribly on his cousin Dudley, often lied to their son. That was a pity, Harry had often thought, for Dudley could have used a dose of truth now and again.
Harry stared into the dark man's steady gaze studiously. After almost a minute he shook his head. No, this was the Dark Man of his dreams. Harry knew, in that moment, that Professor Snape may not tell him everything, but he'd never lie. Not to him.
"I just wanted to pick up the feathers," Harry spoke through a soft sigh of relief. "Draco wanted to call an elf to do it and it says on the rules that we're not supposed to do that. I just told him that he couldn't do that and we got to shouting and then..." Harry let out a shudder. "He just started hitting me!"
The pain in that last phrase was like a knife to Snape's heart. "Did you fight back, Mr. Potter?"
Harry bit his lower lip. "I was going to. I think I really was, but then..." he frowned as he tried to describe what had happened to him. "Draco was... I mean he became D-dudley. My cousin. And all I could do was what I always do." Harry swiped angrily at a tear and then looked up at his teacher. "Draco hates me now, doesn't he?" Harry asked mournfully.
"Of course he does not, you silly child," Snape tried to soothe the boy with his soft, but assured tone.
"But, I yelled at him and he must have hit me because he hates me, sir!"
"Mr. Malfoy did not hit you because he hates, you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy did not want to admit to himself that you were right in quoting the rules to him so he struck out at you. It is a failing that Mr. Malfoy has that when he is wrong, rather than admit to his failure, he either throws a tantrum or starts a fight. It is not a behavior his father tolerates, and neither shall I."
"So I did get him in trouble," Harry smacked his fist on his bed.
"This is not your fault, young man," Snape bit out firmly. "Draco is the one that brought trouble upon himself by breaking the rules."
"Then that means you're gonna punish him, and he's gonna be mad at me!" Harry accused sharply.
"Oh yes," Snape agreed, much to Harry's surprise. "I have no doubt that Mr. Malfoy will no doubt be mad at you, and I know he will have no fondness for me either. The thing is, he will get over it, and you will be friends again."
"That doesn't make sense," Harry said dubiously. He'd had too many experiences with children and adults who got mad at him, and never got over it. "Draco's not going to get over it."
"Mr. Malfoy, like any child, dislikes being caught. It insults his pride to then have to admit that he was wrong. However, Mr. Malfoy values your friendship as much as you do, so he will get over it." Snape stood. "Now, I am going to talk to Mr. Malfoy and then I want you to come down to the common room as soon as you are dressed."
"Yes, sir," acquiesced the little Slytherin. Harry then looked around at all the feathers. "Should I clean these up, Professor?"
"Leave them, Mr. Potter." Snape swept out of the dorm.
When Draco reached the common room after being sent down there by Snape, he looked warily at the tall, muscular seventh year Prefect, Gordon Billock.
"Uhm, Professor Snape said I ought to use your shower and get dressed, sir," Draco disliked how small his voice sounded.
Gordon seated himself in a green leather wingback chair. "Did you know, I had plans today, Malfoy?" Draco shook his head. Gordon glanced at an antique watch on a fob chain that he slipped from his pocket. "Almost noon. I don't know what the Professor has assigned for your punishment, Malfoy, but I'm going to expect an apology from you to my girlfriend, Orencia, for completely mucking up what promised to be a nice day in Hogsmeade."
Draco dropped his head. "I'm sorry, sir."
Gordon's lips thinned. "Go shower, Malfoy. I'll expect that apology for Orencia this evening."
Pulling his clothing tight against his chest, Draco veered towards the Prefect boy's room and closed the door behind him just as the Prefect admonished, "And don't you make a mess in there!"
Ten minutes later (it was the shortest shower Draco had ever taken) he emerged in the common room in his slightly mismatched weekend clothes: a simple blue cotton shirt and dark green trousers, and a pair of trainers. Over this were his Slytherin robes.
The Prefect was still in the common room, but it looked like he was working on some homework. Gordon looked up and pointed with his quill over at a small, round table near the tall windows that overlooked the Mer city under the lake.
"I ordered you a sandwich and some soup, Malfoy."
"Thank you, sir," Malfoy acknowledged and then went to sit at the table. It was tomato soup. Not his favourite. He grimaced, but wiped that look off his face in case the Prefect took offence. Throwing in way too many fish-shaped crackers he mashed them into the thick tomato soup with his spoon until they now looked like... urgh... a fish massacre. Swallowing tightly, he dipped his spoon into the mess and took the mouthful into his mouth. He blinked. It wasn't too bad.
Draco soon had the soup finished and began on his sandwich which was, thankfully, peanut butter and jam.
The young wizard was just finishing up his brunch when Professor Snape came up from the dorms.
Although he had only a few bites of the sandwich left, Draco didn't feel quite as hungry. He drank down his milk, washing away the peanut butter's threatening stickiness in his mouth.
"Over here, Mr. Malfoy," Snape walked over to the divan and Draco rose from the small table and followed.
As he seated himself, Draco asked, "Did I hurt Harry?"
"Mr. Potter will be fine, Mr. Malfoy." Draco nodded.
"Does he still want to be my friend?" Snape looked down into the smaller Malfoy's grey eyes. Draco was trying, in vain, to hide the fear that now gnawed at his belly and made him wish he hadn't eaten any of the lunch.
"I do believe that Mr. Potter is worried about the same thing, Mr. Malfoy." Faint hope and relief washed over the boy and his eyes misted. Snape ignored his need to further assure the child. At the moment he needed to address Draco's misbehaviour. "I am... disappointed, Mr. Malfoy. You have been here less than a week and not only have you managed to disregard the rules I have set down for all my Snakes, you also got into a fight, with your friend, as if you were some sort of Knockturn Alley thug."
Draco sniffled, but didn't let his distress show any further by allowing his tears to fall. He kept his gaze as steadily as he could upon his Head of House.
"Slytherin House will be your home for the next seven years, Mr. Malfoy, and we are your family. I expect you to have respect for your House, not just in your behaviour, but in the physical House itself. Keeping your dorm clean is your responsibility, not that of the Hogwarts house elves."
"But I don't have to do that at home!" protested Draco with a sullen pout on his face.
Snape glared darkly at the little boy who once again huffed, but this time, as he let go of the pout, he slammed his back against the back of the divan. The Potions professor did not relax his glare. Draco, like many others in Slytherin, was a pampered prince, and to some degree, spoiled. Lucius and Narcissa believed that as Purebloods, house elves were a privilege that should be used as such. Snape disagreed with this belief as he felt that reliance upon a servant, house elf or otherwise, made a person complacent, lazy even. He expected all of his Snakes to learn to rely upon themselves, even in something mundane as cleaning their dorms.
"This is not Malfoy Manor," Snape intoned deeply. Draco shuddered slightly. That was too much like the tone his father used when he was about to get spanked. If he weren't already sitting down, Draco's hands would have gone back to protect his bum.
Snape smirked as he saw the tell-tale twitch of Draco's arms. He then sobered his look, showing his disapproval in his eyes. The glimmer of impending tears was now welling up in the boy's silvery-grey eyes.
"You exhibited disrespect, Mr. Malfoy. For your House, your family here, for your friend, and for your Head of House when you summoned that house elf. I will not tolerate such rudeness from one of my Snakes."
A single tear splashed upon the pale cheek and Draco sniffed audibly. Snape withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the little boy. Draco took it, rapidly wiped at his eyes, and blew his nose upon a corner of the handkerchief. He then neatly folded the soiled corner up so the rest of the handkerchief was still usable.
"You're not going to spank me, are you, Professor?" Draco asked timidly through a sniffle.
Snape sighed, "No, Mr. Malfoy. I shall leave that up to your father." Draco paled. "Yes, he will know about this."
"What'll you do to me, sir?" asked Draco, fearing there might be something worse than a spanking. Maybe what that fifth year was teasing about the other night with the castle keeper, Filch and chains was real.
"This evening you will serve a detention with me. Until then, I want you to clean your dorm. No magic and no house elves. And, not just the feathers. You are to make the beds, dust, and clean the bathroom."
Draco's jaw dropped. "That's going to take all day!" In reply, the student received a warning scowl from his teacher. Draco blanched, "I'm sorry, sir! I'll do it."
"Good." Draco slid forward on the divan to leave and do as he was told, but Snape stopped him. "We are not finished yet, Mr. Malfoy." Draco remained where he was and almost, successfully hid an exasperated sigh. This one Snape ignored. "You attacked a fellow Slytherin, and your friend."
"I didn't mean to," Draco whispered ashamedly.
"On the contrary, Mr. Malfoy, you did mean to, and you did not hesitate. Since before you came to Hogwarts, I have been quite concerned about your lack of control in regards to your temper. I ignored it since you are not my child, nor were you here at Hogwarts, but I will not ignore it now that you are in my House. You will learn to control your temper as befits a young man, or else."
Draco gulped audibly. He didn't want to speculate, at all, what Professor Snape's 'or else' was. "It's... it's just really hard to do that, sir. And, I really didn't mean to hurt Harry, but it's just, I just got so mad that I didn't think and next thing I knew..." Draco stopped as he realised he was babbling. Probably stupidly. He took a deep breath and stared down at his hands as he confessed, "My father is always complaining about my temper, too, sir. He says it's my worst flaw."
Snape had heard Lucius' complaints but had never stepped in with unasked for advice. He had seen Draco's interactions with other children, and even some adults. Draco's emotions lived on the surface and all it took was someone to push the right button and he exploded. Sometimes, as a guest at Malfoy Manor and when he'd been subjected to the child's more disagreeable emotional outbursts, he'd been sufficiently annoyed to show it upon his face.
The temper was inherited from his father, Lucius, and that temper had been harshly punished by Abraxas. Lucius had never struck his child in anger, but there had been times when he'd been so frustrated with Draco that he'd have to retreat from his son.
"We shall see what we can do about that, Mr. Malfoy." Snape made a mental note to speak to Lucius when he had tea at Malfoy Manor about teaching Draco a mental discipline that would help him; Occlumency. "For now, I need you to address the breach in your friendship with Mr. Potter."
Draco gave his teacher a hopeful look. He really, truly had not meant to hit Harry, and he hoped, hoped, hoped that Harry would forgive him.
"I think a formal apology is in..."
Draco suddenly interrupted, "Professor? What happened to Harry? Why didn't he fight back?"
Snape wasn't pleased at the interruption, but he expected Draco to be concerned enough to ask at some point. Draco had not registered that there was a problem deeper than the messy dorm until Snape had shown up.
The Potions professor's lips thinned in contemplation. He wasn't sure how to answer the question, especially since he felt it was Harry's place to confide in his friend. If, he ever chose to do so. However, with Draco's lack of emotional control there could be more such incidents as this one and that could be potentially damaging to Harry as well as to the budding friendship.
Snape began carefully, "Mr. Potter has not had an... ideal home life. I will not go into detail for if that is something that he wishes to share with you, he will do so. And you should not press him for detail, unless he is willing to confide in you, understood?"
Draco nodded firmly. "Sir? Do you mean that Harry's relatives have hurt him?"
Snape nodded once, but said nothing more about Harry's relatives. Any more would be between the two friends. He did add, softly, but firmly, "What you and Mr. Potter have, Mr. Malfoy, is no less valuable than your father's treasured books or your mother's collection of jewellery. I would dare to say, it has more worth than either. See that you treat it as such."
"I will, sir." He was just about to ask his teacher if he could go up the stairs to make his apologies, when Harry emerged in a shirt, a sweatshirt jacket, a very faded pair of jeans that seemed awfully large on him, and a pair of filthy trainers that probably smelled as bad as they looked.
Draco just ignored it all and sprinted over to his friend. At Harry's involuntary flinch, Draco abruptly stopped and took a moment to catch his breath.
"I'm real sorry I hit you! I never meant to, but my temper is so rotten! Harry," Draco's voice was pleading, "I won't ever do it again. I promise."
With a bit of a shock, Harry stared at Draco. In that moment, he understood that Draco really was as terrified of losing his new friend as he was. It was... weird, but nice. Harry gave Draco a slightly lopsided smile. "It's okay."
For a moment, both boys stared at each other and then Draco shuffled one foot. "I... uhm... I gotta go clean our dorm." He moved past Harry, but then stopped. "Are we okay?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. We are."
Beaming a smile that was a mile wide, he nearly skipped up to the first year dorms and disappeared where the stairs turned.
Harry was smiling, too, as he approached Professor Snape. "Can I help Draco, sir?"
Snape shook his head. "We have errands to complete in Diagon Alley today. But, before that, you need to have something to eat." The Potions professor looked up over at the Prefect. "Mr. Billock, order Mr. Potter some lunch and then you may leave for the day."
"Sure thing, sir!" Gordon trotted over to the Floo and quietly called the Hogwarts kitchen and requested soup and a sandwich and some milk for Harry. The food quickly arrived and Gordon levitated the tray over to the table where Draco had eaten.
"I will see you in the Entrance Hall in 30 minutes, Mr. Potter," declared Snape.
"Yes, sir!" Harry mumbled with a full mouth.
Snape strode out and was soon followed by a relieved Prefect who was looking forward to a Saturday with his girlfriend.
Updated May 2015
