Draco's POV
Chapter 3: Truce
As Draco walked into the compartment that held the Weasley girl in it, he was not sure what to expect or what had made him follow her after she had unbecomingly punched him. It still stung a little, but anything was better than standing out on the platform with everyone gawking at him. While, he was no stranger to beautiful girls gawking at him and his Slytherin peons watching his every move, adjusting to the looks that came with being in Harry Potter's body was disconcerting. He had only been "Harry Potter" for an hour and he had no clue what to do and the irony of the situation had finally hit home. The seriousness of this stunt had finally hit him and he almost doubted his abilities to go through with the plan. He had always prided himself on character study and he had also been able to study his opponents and learn about their weaknesses in case the need to exploit them ever arose. However, while he was in his own worst's enemy's body, he ultimately would be hurting himself and getting himself killed if he were to this mess up and he had to be careful. What were Harry Potter's strengths? he wondered.
During the holiday, Draco had been very aware of the glares he received from everybody, mostly the Golden Trio. Luckily, these silent glares turned into being ignored completely by the end of the summer. Alone in his room was the only chance he let his guard down and would think about his parents and the sight he had witnessed when he came home to find them murdered in the family dining room. Often these thoughts led to more unsettling ones and he had taken to sitting in the Weasley's living room staring at the fireplace most nights, long after everyone had gone to sleep. If he were honest with himself, he was afraid to be alone or sleep. He was afraid to remember how he found his parents. Afraid of what Dumbledore had asked him to do in order to try and defeat the Dark Lord once and for all.
However, knowing what Voldemort had done to his parents and how the "evidence" pointed to Draco being the murderer, there had been no place for Draco to really run without being locked in a prison, being killed himself or sentenced to excruciating torture, so he had decided to lower himself and contact his batty Headmaster. Plus, the Ministry had frozen his financial accounts so he could not even afford to hide safely for very long.
Looking back, he had spent the whole of summer in a room at the Weasley's house and did not even consider that he might have to practice acting like a goody-goody Gryffindor when school were to start. All he really needed to do was put on a dense face and smile aimlessly at everything. Right? He had spent his whole life making fun of the Gryffindors but now fate had turned and he was expected to act like one? Wasn't just looking like Scarhead enough? From the little he observed of the Golden Trio this summer, it was going to be a long school year and he was almost positive that Dumbledore's plan had only proved his theory that Misotherp Beatles had infested the old wizard's brain to make him only speak in batty sentences and nonsensical ideas.
He had been so used to be ignored by everyone over the past two months that when the she-Weasel had basically spat out venom about how he needed to smile more, he had actually been shocked. Instinct had come into play and he responded likewise. He had definitely not seen the hit coming until he had grabbed his face in pain. His face….his…..Draco knew it was not his face that had gotten hit. It was Scarhead's face. It was in that moment that he wished he made more of an effort to reach out to the Gryffindor's he had stayed with and had tried to observe them. While Ron and the Mudblood had completely refused to help the situation, at least the Weaslette had looked him in the face a few times and occasionally recognized that he had entered into the room. Draco was not used to be so ignored when entering the room but fear and being shaken up more about his parent's death that he had indicated to Dumbledore had been even more overwhelming then his pride at the time.
Draco almost swore the fiery, little red head, had almost blushed under his gaze a few times. It had been almost the only amusing thing to happen all summer. Weaslette's face would flush, and while it may have been from anger and glaring at him at first, he knew the signs well enough to know she eventually hid her face and let her red hair fall down because his gaze would overwhelm her. Draco was surprised he almost found her pretty… almost. There were far more attractive girls of his acquaintance but Draco could not deny that her hair often framed her face in such a way and curled just so slightly that it could almost tempt any bloke to want to know its softness around his fingers.
Now, back with his peers, he could not escape the feeling that he would slip up somehow. He had never bothered to learn most of the names of people in Gryffindor. Dumbledore had said it was no big deal if "Harry" came back a little different because everyone would blame it on the events with Voldemort that no one would dare question anything. However, it was not Dumbledore's life at stake here, it was Draco's and there was no playing around with that as far as Draco was concerned. Therefore, taking a moment to breathe, he decided he must do what needed to be done…make nice with Weaslette to preserve his own life. He would blackmail her if he had to. A lot of their classmate had seen that she attacked him and he knew well enough of blackmail and exploitation to hold that against her.
Entering in the compartment now and seeing her face, almost brought a full blown smirk on his face but he knew when to hold back and not exacerbate the situation. The cunning, handsome teenager knew how to be charming when he wanted to be.
"Hello, friend…", he sneered . Okay, he almost snickered, that did not sound friendly at all.
Draco could tell Weaslette was almost visibly shaking, but he continued on and sat across from her, arms stretched out behind his head in a seemingly arrogant but relaxed way. "Before we have any visitors, I wanted to clear things up a bit. We have not started off in the best of circumstances, but I think it would be beneficial if we called a truce".
Weaslette looked at him as if he had grown four heads and stared at him in silence, but Draco was used to that and continued, "We have to watch ourselves. We can despise each other all we want in the privacy of the shack you call a home, but you have to remember that I am no longer the gorgeous, wealthy heir that I once was. I am now Scarhead and the whole wizarding race depends on me pulling this off". Draco debated whether to go forward after this point, but noticing that at least she seemed to be listening, he forged ahead and decided that maybe using honesty would have a decent response from this girl. "Therefore, Weaselby, I need your help".