Chapter 3.
The next year, when all the chaos had passed, I focused on improving my grades. I had convinced Professor Dumbledore to extend the allowed hours to study in the library so I could continue to study late at night without breaking any rules.
Once, while sitting in the libary, Malfoy sat down on a table near me. Our eyes met, as they always do, and we both looked away and continued our work.
It became a routine or habit. 2-3 times a week, we would be in the library, studying. I was always the last person to leave, but he was very often the second last person.
One night, he approached my table after everyone else had left. I looked up at him. He had a small smile on his face. He cocked his head.
"Mind if I copy your notes from Potions today? I can't stay focused when Snape drones on," he asked.
"S-Sure," I replied.
He sat down directly in front of me, and I pulled out the notes and slid them across the table. He started writing them down.
"I-uh, wanted to thank you," he said, lifting his eyes for a second.
Draco Malfoy, stuttering? This was unheard of.
"For keeping your word," he continued.
"Of course," I mumble back.
"I'm glad she was okay," he said, "Ginny."
"So am I."
The conversation was occasional and light for the rest of the night. We discussed our classes and quiddich. It seemed almost normal. I had hardly gotten any studying done by the end of the night. We began to pack our books into our bags.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked, hopeful.
"Yes," I replied reluctantly.
"What?" he cocked his eyebrow.
"Would you mind," I hesitated, "not mentioning tonight to anyone?"
He half-smiled, and I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn't offended.
"Am I not good enough for the halfblood?" he asked sarcastically.
"I'm more afraid that Ron and Harry will never speak to me again," I replied honestly, "I'm happy to share notes again tomorrow, though."
He looked down and nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
And thus our new habit was formed. Once everyone had left the library the next night, he shuffled over to my table and struck up a new conversation with me.
I learned, over time, of his interests, hobbies and annoying habits. He asked about my relationship with Ronald, and I explained my interest in him being comparative to that of a younger sibling.
"I think he likes you," Draco said.
I snorted, and he laughed.
His laughter was not a sound I was accustomed to. I grinned in reply, unable to control my facial expressions any longer.
His laughter.. was like singing. Something angelic. It sounds very corny, I know.
The year was a happy one. My friendship with Ron and Harry was great, but I felt that my closeness to Draco was different. Not in a romantic way, but I knew that he wouldn't tell anyone anything I would say, because he would risk his own reputation.
He was like my secret friend. A confidant that was always there.