Chapter 3: Hugging you feels way better than hexing you

"I fucking hate being a Head Boy" said Ron, once he returned from his HB duties. "What possessed McGonagall to make me a Head Boy? Why didn't she make you, or Neville, or Dean… Why me?"

"No thank you. I don't want to be." I said.

"And where were you last night?"

"What?"

"Your bed was empty for most of the night," Ron said and threw himself on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"You were awake? Well, I was with.. er_"

"Don't. Don't tell me you were with my sister. Urgh… too much information, mate."

"No. I wasn't. We broke up, actually…"

"What?" Ron gasped. "And you didn't mention it earlier?"

"Not exactly broke up… She dumped me for Dean."

"WHAT? Dean, again! Why, God, why?"

I didn't want to hear more about Ginny. And because my luck was always against me, I had to see her everywhere and almost every day since we were in the same school year now and had classes together. I regretted returning for my last year.

It wasn't like I was the lover who got hurt whenever he saw or heard about her, no. It was as if I was humiliated by someone who didn't deserve me. I wanted to shake her shoulders and tell her 'YOU ARE THE LOSING ONE, BITCH!'

"Hey, where are you going?" Asked Ron when he saw me leaving the common room. I still didn't say anything about Malfoy to my friends, so I made up a lie so he can let me leave. "Oh, and by the way, Quidditch Practice. Tomorrow Evening. Tell the others." I told Ron, who groaned but nodded anyway.

"At your service, Captain," said Ron sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up!" I said with a grin.

"Where is the Cloak?" I asked Malfoy.

"Good to see you, too." But he gave it to me anyway.

"Sneaked to any bathrooms?"

"No bathrooms. But I did sneak into the potions store, stole many useful potion ingredients, and to the Flitwick's class to correct some mistakes I had on the last quiz before he corrects it. And, Oh, I may have edited yours too. I don't think you'll pass Charms this year, Potter."

"You, git! I thought you'll never be able to do anything in such a short time!"'

"Bitch, I am Draco Malfoy."

"Remind me not to trust you with anything whatsoever again."

"I was only joking, Potter. I didn't do any of those things."

I sighed. Thank God that was a lie. I felt like a fool though that I believed what he said. "Enough chattering. I have classes to attend to," I said.

"You're not the only student in the school, Potter. See you after classes?" Malfoy asked hopefully, though he was trying not to make it so obvious.

"I have Quidditch practice."

He frowned. "After that?"

"Maybe…"

He smiled widely and then left.

It was good to know that you can make a person happy. But what I can't believe is that Malfoy slightly started to love his life, or appreciate it at the least, because of me. Because he was looking forward to the next time he'll talk with someone. I wondered if he made another friend, and if he would return back to being the prat he was.

Quidditch practice was a disaster. Katie wasn't flying well. Demelza was worse. And Ginny was so damn good and it annoyed me! And Ron saved only two Quaffles out of twenty. We were definitely losing next match against Slytherin. And to make things worse, Malfoy was sitting on the benches watching.

It finally came to an end, and then came the riot of the showers – the most annoying thing about Quidditch. I was the last to shower. Everyone has left already. When I got out of the shower room I was startled to see Malfoy standing in front of me. "GOD, you scared the hell out of me. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? GET OUT!"

He giggled, and left. After I calmed down a bit, I realized my face was hot and knew I am blushing. Malfoy had seen me half naked with only a towel wrapped around my waist. Oh, God, why? And WHY am I blushing? The whole Quidditch team had seen me in this state before and I never felt that shy. But I guess Malfoy was a different thing…

I dressed up quickly and left the stinky room. Malfoy was waiting outside.

"If you ever get into the shower room again while I am in there, I swear I am going to cut your throat and use it as a potion ingredient! Do you understand? And why the hell were you watching us practice?"

Malfoy chuckled and nodded. "You're blushing! Why are you so embarrassed?"

"You walked into me when I was half naked! What do you expect me to feel like?"

"So?" He asked matter-of-factly.

"I bloody hate you!"

"The feeling is mutual, Potter."

"You actually taught twenty of your friends Defense Against the Dark Arts in your fifth year? Wow!"

"You do realize that the 'Wow' thing is getting more frequent, don't you? I am starting to think that you're admiring me."

"HEY! I am not! And of course it is obvious that you're lying! No thirteen years old wizard can cast a Patronus Charm."

"You're the liar! I casted it once on you and your little friends when you were dressed as dementors." I said.

"That wasn't a real Patronus. It wasn't corporeal. Doesn't count…"

"You saw me casting it when the O.W.L.s testers asked me to do it."

"That was when you were fifteen."

"I learned it when I was thirteen. Believe it or not."

"You're always like that: arrogant, aren't you, Potter?"

"You just say that because you, an EIGHTEEN years old wizard, can't even cast a non-corporeal Patronus!"

"I can!"

"Prove it," I said challengingly.

"Alright I can't… Happy?" He sighed.

I chuckled. "Yes! But why can't you? Come on, try it. Maybe you could after all."

"No, I will not." He said firmly.

"I knew you were too scared to show me how a failure you are," I said, making it sound like a challenge.

"I am NOT!"

"Prove it, then." It worked.

Malfoy took his wand, and said "Expecto Patronum!"

Nothing happened…

He looked at me as if daring me to say something, but I didn't. I wanted him to succeed, I don't know why, but that what I honestly wanted. "You have to think of something happy. A happy memory."

He glared at me and said, "You don't say!" Then, he tried again. It was worse, as if that was possible. Nothing happened at all.

He sighed with desperation.

"Try again. I know you can do it." I said, encouraging him. "Think of a powerful memory. It doesn't have to be a real one. Just think of something or someone or anything that makes you feel happy. And concentrate hard on it. Come one. Do it!"

"Expecto Patronum!" A silver light shot out of the tip of his wand, but it was too faint and went out in seconds.

"See? You are getting better…"

"I don't need your help, Potter. If I want to cast a Patronus Charm, I'd do without your help. And by the way, you're an awful teacher."

I knew somehow that Malfoy was mad because he can't find a happy memory, and felt powerless when he wasn't so successful, but I assured him that no one does it from the first time. He shouted at me and told me that he doesn't need my support. I laughed at his flushed face and changed the topic.

"We're going to slaughter you in tomorrow's match!" I teased him. "I will beat you to the snitch and watch you trying to catch up after me. I will kick your ass, like I always do."

"You will win? Ha-ha-ha. I saw how pathetic you were at the practice. And you're not going to beat me, because I will not be playing."

"What? Why? They replaced you?" Malfoy slapped me. It didn't hurt, though, so I let it pass.

"I resigned, Potter!" He spat.

"Why?"

"I don't want to play anymore."

"It's not normal of you."
"Potter, you are so annoying! I am free to do what I want. I don't want to play Quidditch! Is that a crime?" This wasn't the first time Malfoy shouts at me for no apparent reason, I noticed.

"Tell me, Malfoy, are you really mad because I am annoying you, or are you mad because you're starting to like me and think of me as a friend, and that's annoying you?"

"I don't. Like. You!"

"But you didn't say that I am annoying you either." I grinned at his flushed face which was definitely not so cute!
"And I didn't say that I like you either."

"I know you do…" I smirked.

"I don't."

"'Where did you get that, Potter?' 'How did you do that, Potter?' 'You trust me, Potter?' 'I want to see you after class, Potter!' 'You couldn't possibly be able to do something like that, Potter!' 'No thirteen years old wizard can do a Patronus, Potter!' You are an admirer. You're starting to become like Creevey."

Malfoy grabbed the collar of my robes. His face was flushed redder than a tomato. "I. HATE. YOU. POTTER!"

And then he left.

We slaughtered Slytherin at Quidditch. Our team was poor, but Slytherin's was a joke. Without Malfoy playing, I hated to admit, they had no qualified player at all. There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room as usual, but I hated those parties. They were loud and noisy, and I was always surrounded by people making out. Why is it when I am in a relationship, there aren't any parties, and once I am single, there are parties with couples snogging everywhere?

I left the common room and went to the Great Hall. A quick peek at the Marauder's Map told me that Malfoy was there. I didn't see him since last night, and I started to realize that I missed the git, I hated to admit. I missed his sneer, his flushed face, and the way he says Potter! Why does he have to be a prat? If he could only be a good person, we would have been very good friends…

"Hey, Malfoy." He was sitting alone in the hall, crossing his arms and resting his head on them. I sat next to him.

"Sod off, Potter."

I ignored him. "I told you we will slaughter you! I caught the snitch in less than ten minutes."

"I hope you're so pleased, you high self-esteemed bastard!"

"You're still mad, then?"

"I am always mad at you. I HATE YOU, POTTER!"

"Yes, you've said that already before."

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"The party was starting to turn boring."

"Why don't you go to your little minions and enjoy your little party, and leave me fucking alone?"

"They are not my minions; they're my friends, Malfoy!"

"Whatever… The point is you leaving me alone."

"Why don't you join our party?" I asked, knowing the answer before it was spoken.

"You're a fucking mental. Do you expect me to go to the Gryffindor part in your filthy common room, and celebrate the defeat of my house, because you invited me to?"

"No, I was just being nice." I put a hand on his shoulder, and was surprised when he didn't jerk it off.

"Sod off, Potter."

"Why are you so mad, Malfoy?"

"I am not mad! I just hate you!"

"Okay, I get it. But why are you mad. You're so upset and sitting alone by yourself and don't want to engage with anything, not even Quidditch."

He finally faced me. "Because fuck you, that's why! Why I sit alone? If you still haven't realized, because I don't have any friends. Pans and Blaise left me. They don't want to be in contact with the son of a criminal. Vincent is dead, and it was YOUR FAULT! Greg blames me on Vincent's death because I lured them to follow me following YOU! And my dad is in jail because of YOU and your fucking ministry. It always comes back to you, doesn't it, Potter? And I feel so bad because in the past weeks, I didn't have a simple conversation with anyone but YOU! And that makes me feel TERRIBLE, YOU KNOW THAT? I HATE YOU SO MUCH, AND I DON'T HAVE ANYONE TO TALK TO BUT YOU. Imagine that… And I hate that I owe you for saving my life, TWICE. And I hate that you're so kind to me, and so calm about it, when we should kill each other… You should hex me and I should use every known maiming curse on your stupid face. I. Hate. You…" The echo of his voice rang across the hall. Malfoy looked away from me and stared blankly on the opposite wall, before he continued but calmer this time. "I told Mum. I told her I don't want to come back. I won't bear the looks everyone gives me. Everyone looks at me as if I was the one who killed their families. Even your minions, Potter, who you see them as angels, look at me the same way. I hate every moment I stay here. Slytherin isn't anymore a proper Hogwarts house. We're looked at like we are all criminals. Like this fucking mark is all what we are." Malfoy pulled his sleeve pointing at the faded Dark Mark. I looked at it then back at Malfoy's face and saw traces of tears in the corners of his eye. "I want to die. I've failed in everything, even at dying. I don't want to live anymore, if I even call this living."

We stayed in silence for many uncomfortable seconds.

"Leave me alone, Potter. I don't know what you want from me. But I know I will be better if you left me alone."

I didn't know what to do. I felt so bad for him. Malfoy wasn't used to that. He was used to getting the attention of everyone. He was used to being the boss of his entire house. This was so harsh for him. I felt what he is feeling now millions of times before and they were mostly because of him. But now wasn't the time to blame him. I noticed that my hand is still on his shoulder. I didn't know why I did that, and I was sure I'll regret it once he shoves me off, but I did it anyway: I pulled him into an embrace. I waited for the blow, but Malfoy managed to surprise me again. He rested his chin on my shoulder and cried silently. I held him tighter in my arms and patted his back.

"Malfoy, I am so sorry." I didn't know what exactly I am apologizing about, but he apparently thought that I am the one to be blamed. "I didn't mean all of this to happen to you. I might not be fond of you, but that doesn't mean that I don't care about you. That doesn't mean that I want you dead. You know how much you scared me when I thought I killed you with that spell in my sixth year? I still have nightmares of you dying by my hand. If I wanted you dead, I'd have left you fall or burn. And I am sorry; I tried to save Vincent, but it was too late. You have to know that even if you don't see this, but there are people out there who care about you, and I am one of them."

Malfoy was still I thought he'd slept on my shoulder. "Malfoy…"

I shook him. No answer. "MALFOY!"

Something was wrong. If he was asleep, my voice would've waked him up by now. "Malfoy, wake up!" I pulled him away from me, and his head fell on the table. He was completely unconscious. "Oh, no! Not again… His breathing was normal, so he wasn't dead, thank God!

"Locomotor!" I pointed my wand at his body and he became weightless. I carried him on my shoulder and ran to the hospital wing.

It was like the first time I got him here all over again, only with a different reason. "What is wrong with him?" I asked the matron after she gave him nourishing potions and Dreamless Sleep.

"He has an emotional shock and suffers from lack of nutrition. Apparently he hasn't eaten anything in the last four days. He'll be fine; he just needs some rest."

I can't help wondering about this, so I asked her: "Umm, Madam Pomfrey, did you contact Mrs. Malfoy about what happened earlier?"

"I sent her an owl, yes"

"And did she answer your letter?"

"No, I am afraid."

"And Professor Slughorn?"

"He said that he would not like to be involved in Mr. Malfoy's personal life." I remembered how Slughorn was like. If there was only one person in the world who's racist against Death Eaters and their whole families it would be him, except if Mad-Eye was still alive. Of course Slughorn wouldn't like to interact with a family best known of bearing the Dark mark and using its house as a headquarters to the darkest wizard of all time.

"You can leave now, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy is well tended."

"No, I think I should stay…"

"But he won't be awake before the morning!"

"It doesn't matter. If you can just lend me a pillow; I will spend the night in this chair." I pointed at the chair nearest to Malfoy's bed.

"Of course…"

I looked at Malfoy's sleeping face. He looked more peaceful now. I was sad that I can't make him have a nice life. Everything has turned against him, and it was not fair. Of course the boy isn't a saint, but he doesn't deserve all of this!

"Sleep well," I said, stroking his soft blonde hair. "It will get better tomorrow…" Before I dozed off, I vowed that I will help Malfoy as much as I could. I will let it be my responsibility to make sure that Malfoy will never hate his life enough to commit suicide again, whatever it takes.