DRACO

"Hey Pansy, is my hair alright?"

Saturday morning, breakfast was coming along in about a half an hour. That amount of time gave me the right minutes to worry about my appearance.

Pansy was sitting on my bed, swinging her legs around. She probably hoped her skirt when high enough for me to take a glance, but my eyes had no interest in taking a peek. She pursed her pug-like lips, and said, "Draco, your hair is fine, who are you getting gussied up for anyway?"

'She hopes this was her.' Women can be seen through like purest glass. I comb my fingers through the blond locks and they fluttered, contained a 'bed-head' look. Potter will probably see this as funny business and proceed to stuff my face with snowballs.

I combed my hair flat.

"No one in particular, I can feel good about my appearance, right?" I answer. Blinks come across my eyes, 'Am I worthy?' I wonder. Pansy resumed to tossing her hair in a way she thinks that was 'flirtatious'. "I was thinking that you and me should go somewhere out of Hogsmeade. I mean, the damned place is sooo childish, and that Puddifoot café going to make me puke."

This makes me reconsider places we should go to, if I take Potter to Puddifoot's, he'd take his has an insult and yes, stuff my mouth with snowballs.

I don't answer her as I adjust the belt to rise below my abdominals and button my shirt five times. This is my first time feeling self conscious, and this was all for the Chosen One.

"Draco, did you hear me?" she rasps, annoyed. "I heard you fully and clearly, but my answer is no." I say bluntly. 'She's annoying. Get off of my case.' Pantsy is not accepting my answer; she would rather take the opposite route. She says "Why not?"

"I'm going to torment Potter." I lie.

It's really the opposite though...

Pansy cackles and nods, "That I can agree to." She leaves the room, finally, leaving me alone to fuss around. Adjusting my shirt again, I make the final decision to leave the first two buttons undone.

I make my way out of the Slytherin dormitories, and I take my jacket with me. My heart begins to beat against my throat as if it was readying itself to jump out of my mouth.

HARRY

"Are you going to be lonely?"

Ron is shoveling food into his stomach as if it would repel the fact that he had extended detention. Hermione is not paying attention at all, her quill is moving fast across the sheet of parchment. "..not good.. Only three paragraphs in five minutes.. Hermione, what were you thinking?" she murmurs. I am sitting there, blinking. "I don't know, mate. I'll find something to do." I say, pokerfaced.

Hermione finally stops writing and looks up, "Hagrid's coming too, Harry." I nod, but I my stomach still leaves me with a hollow feeling. They are trying to make me feel better, knowing that they will stay in Hogwarts on this day. Hermione purses her lips, concerned, "You want me to come with you?" I shake my head, "It's alright," I answer. I mean, who would want to find their best friend dating their mortal enemy?

'It's only for today. Not tomorrow, just today.'

Ron just about finishes his heap of food, and gets up, "Time to go through horrible hours of detention." Hermione pats his shoulder, and he stalks off. She looks at me and squeezes mine, "I'll guess we'll see you later, Harry?" and she collects her parchment and quill and walks back to the common room.

I prod the cold fried egg on my plate. And got off of my seat, 'I might as well go through this, besides. I can punch him in the nose if it's all a joke.'

I snorted, hoping it wasn't a joke and the emotions were real.

"Yeah right..."

The egg goes down my esophagus in the most ghastly way. Am I being fooled? Do I actually think that he fancies me? Of all people, Malfoy fancies me?

But even so, there's no point to sulk and trod around.

I might as well soak in the awkwardness as much as I can whilst I'm at it.

I head out the door and follow the other students to Hogsmeade. But none of them have any idea of what I doing and I don't either.

Did I make a bad decision?

DRACO

Almost there to Hogsmeade..

As we walk through the gate, I spot Potter gloomily walking in the tracks of other students. It surprised me when he agreed on a five hour date, but it didn't surprise me if he wasn't happy about it. Waiting until the other students clear out, I casually stroll up to him.

"Hello!" My tone sounding happier than I usually am, shocked me greatly. Potter, startled, walks back two steps. "Er, hi Malfoy." He says with a forced smile. Something unsettling weighs down inside me, as if I totally regretted agreeing to him.

What's the point of doing something when the other one isn't happy?

My lips are pressed white and I force a nod.

We tread through the snow, being the last ones to walk in. There are plenty of people, so it's easier to be camouflaged in. Potter is silent, and that leads me to mixed feelings. We continue to walk for a half a hour more and reach and bench that is apart of the bustling town. Potter takes a seat and I do so also.

Potter blinks and looks at me, he bites his lip and says, "Nice weather we're having right?" It was sort of a useless thing to say, but it uplifted the unease in my heart. I nod, and glance at the falling white petals that were thick clumps of snow falling from the trees.

I blinked; my face on verge of burning from the awkwardness in my position. I adjust the scarf around my neck and murmur, "Do you really think that You-Know-Who's back?"

An expression of brief rage sparks against Potter's face, but it softens. "I do, I was there to see him right?" Potter halts, rubbing his neck.

"He killed Cedric, Malfoy."

I blinked, watching the reddish-yellow sun rise from the trees. I remember the time all of the houses were sitting at the stands. Anticipating the moment when the contestants will come back with the portkey. Instead, we found a bawling Potter and a Diggory who kicked the bucket.

"I believe you, Harry."

The words come up absentmindedly. I've never called Potter by his first name, and it felt slightly comfortable to do so. Warmth probed the insides of my body. I took a quick peek at Potter's face, which was a light red.

"Uhm," he breathes, "let's look around, yeah?"

His fingers find his way to cross into mine. I look at him, surprised. But his lips melt into a smile and he squeezes my hand.

I swear; I will die one happy boy.

We tread across the benches and Harry says nothing. He's merely radiant because of the fact that I believed him. It was, if I can find the right words to this, adorable. Besides, I don't really think the Chosen One would have the will to kill someone, much less a Hufflepuff.

HERMIONE

"Ron, what time is it?"

Ron is back from his dragging hours in detention. Crookshanks is curled up his in lap, purring softly. But on the other hand, Ron is practically dead and still droning about his death takes at detention.

As I ask this, Ron slurs, "You wouldn't believe it, Hermione. Flitwick made me polish every single Ravenclaw trophy for wit. And Ravenclaws are talented for their intelligence and whatnot, I just can't believe-"

"Ron, I asked for the time."

"-all this time, I didn't realize that he'll ask so much of me-."

"Ron, I asked for the-"

"I'm definitely not a horrible Charms student, all I did was use the Summoning Charm on Crabbe and make that fat lump fall out of the chair-"

"Ronald Weasley! What is-"

"and, Merlin's pants, he had 50 trophies from me to polish. And that was only the quarter of the bunch!"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY."

Ron blinks, startled, "Yeah?"

I sigh deeply, and say, "What is the time?"

Ron wipes the sweat off of his face, and Crookshanks, provoked, hissed and dropped from his lap and disappeared. Ron pulls his sleeve up, revealing sets of arrows and moons. He blinks, understanding it and says, "Six hours and thirty-eight minutes," as if he was reading my mind, he says, "Harry should be coming along, yeah?"

I blinked looking at the distinct chatter from the rest of the common room. Although, there isn't in chatter at all, just a few gloomy students and detention caught scalawags.

Soon enough Gryffindors pile into the room, happy and cold. As they all take seats around friends or classmates, I realize that Harry wasn't with the group. Blinking, I look around, trying to spot the messy-haired boy with a bolt of lightning on his forehead and circular glasses.

But no one matched up to the required appearance..

I grab Ron's shoulder, who was dozing off again.

"Come on, Ron. Let's find Harry."