Draco slowly integrated himself into Harry Potter's life. He knew that the adjustments had to be minimal, and the first step he took was apologizing in all sincerity to Hermione Granger, who gawked at him as if he gone completely barmy. Surprisingly, it wasn't that difficult, especially after he realized that he had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
He knew better than to try to apologize to Weasley. The only good that would do him was a black eye. Granger hadn't really accepted his apology either, but at least he wasn't bleeding.
The next step was just being more effable in general, which didn't exactly turn out as well as he wanted. Mostly, it just made him seem suspicious. Harry actually looked frightened when he smiled at him, which would have been amusing if it wasn't so frustrating. The only headway he made was helping Ginny Weasley with her potion's assignment. He tossed a casual glance over her shoulder in the library and remembered the chapter. She was having trouble understanding why the beetle wings would counteract the moltengloss roots, an admittedly confusing conundrum if one didn't understand the magical properties of the ingredients.
Ginny and the small gaggle of friends she carted around her had stared at him much the same way Granger had stared at him when he apologized. He couldn't help smiling, impressed with how much he could unnerve people just by being nice. Screw doing this for Harry. This was fun all on its own.
o.O.o
"You've got do something! Curse him, talk to him, kill him. I don't care. Just do something!" Ron said, pacing the common room.
"I heard you the first time, Ron," Harry grumbled, only slightly less troubled by Malfoy's new attitude than Ron.
"It's bloody creepy!"
Harry had to agree. Malfoy smiling at you was just not something you wanted to happen. It had to be some sort of ill omen.
"He helped me with my homework in the library," Ginny said. "I mean, he wasn't even jerking me around. He actually gave me the right answer."
"Don't you think you're over-reacting?" Hermione said cautiously from the fireplace.
"Over-reacting!" Ron shouted, flailing his arms. "This has to be some type of plot. Do you think maybe he's cursed?"
Ginny shook her head. "I checked."
"Maybe someone slipped him a cheering potion," Pavarti, who had drawn herself into the conversation, said.
"Malfoy knows potions like the back of his hand," Hermione said. "There's no way he'd let himself be poisoned."
"Maybe he's just being nice."
The voice came from Padma, who had joined her sister on the couch, leaning over the back so that twin faces surveyed the lot of them.
"Are you daft?" Ron suddenly hissed in a stage whisper, as if Malfoy was listening at the portrait.
"Well," she said with a small irritated pout. "It's not like he has to impress his father anymore, and he doesn't have a bunch of Death Eater trainees breathing down his neck."
"Need I remind you he was one of those Death Eater trainees?" Ron said.
Padma rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "I heard that his mother has gone insane, you know. They can't even keep the manor anymore. The rest of his house is trying to stay as far away from him as possible. He's practically has a bull's eye mark on his back now. He has nothing."
"A bull's eye?" Harry said, brows creased.
Padma made an expression as if she had just said something she wasn't supposed to.
Pavarti sighed elegantly. "A bunch of students don't think Slytherin should be a house anymore."
"That's stupid," Harry said the same moment Hermione said, "And the teachers condone this?"
Pavarti shrugged. "I don't think Slytherin should be a house anymore but moving them into the other houses is just stupid too."
"Who would want them?" Padma added.
The group went quiet.
"Are they really thinking about abolishing the house?" Ginny said eventually.
"They wouldn't," Hermione said.
Suddenly, Ron snorted. "We'd be better without the lot of them."
"Ron!" Hermione started, but Harry tuned them out.
He remembered well that the Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. He still thought he had made the right decision, but would he really want the choice to be taken away entirely? And even if he would have chosen Slytherin so long ago, that didn't mean he would have turned out evil. Not really.
Still, he doubted Snape would allow it. If there was one thing he couldn't fault Snape, he was a prideful bastard and a good head of house. Half of him still thought he was a slimy git who should retire, but the other half thought the man deserved an Order of Merlin.
He excused himself from the conversation, garnering a "good night" only from the Patil twins and Ginny because Hermione and Ron were still bickering. He still didn't know what he was going to do about Malfoy, but apparently it was his responsibility. He didn't think he could stomach another meal with Draco across from him, grinning like a cat looking at a canary.
o.O.o
Draco was washing his hands in the loo when Potter came barreling through the door as if hellhounds were on his trail. He leaned up against the door, not even noticing him as he strained to hear through the wood. Draco watched bemused as he darted into a stall, pulled the door closed, and stood on the lid.
A moment later, Colin Creevey opened the door, his cherubic expression having survived the trauma of a losing a brother. His camera was hanging around his neck, cradled in eager hands as he searched the restroom. His eyes landed on Draco, and he tensed as if he had spotted a hungry dragon.
"M-malfoy?"
"Yes?" he said courteously.
He looked around nervously, fondling the camera. "Did… you happen see H-harry come in?" His voice had gotten so quiet at the end that Draco had to guess what he said.
He made a show of looking around, tossing his towel in the bin. "No."
He made a small sound and darted out. Draco could help the small sadistic chuckle that escaped him. Harry opened the stall, still squatting on the toilet as he checked the room. His gaze fell on Draco suspiciously.
"That was… nice."
Draco smiled. "No problem."
He made no move to leave, which seemed to put Harry even more on his guard. He emerged from the stall, sure to keep his front to him. A measure of hurt mixed with the glee of that realization, and he took a deep breath.
"Look, I know I was a major prat-"
"Arsehole," Harry interrupted.
"Arsehole," he accepted graciously, "but I want you to know that I don't plan to be like that anymore."
"Really," he said, crossing his arms.
Draco regarded him with a smug smile. "Would you like an oath?"
Harry stared at him, startled. He tested Draco's eyes a moment, and the blond was sure to stare back. He was fairly sure vague bonds like "I will not be a prat" didn't really work, but he didn't mind giving the insurance anyway.
"No," Harry said. "That's not necessary."
Draco leaned against the sink, watching his uncertainty with a smug type of relish.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you acting this way?"
Because it had gotten Harry to notice him.
"Because being a prick doesn't serve any purpose anymore. It's much more fun to rattle you like this."
"So this is for your amusement?" Harry said angrily, though the tension in his shoulders loosened.
Draco frowned. "No," he said quickly. He straightened, suddenly very serious. "I don't have to be cruel all the time, Potter." He almost stumbled over his name, so tempted to call him Harry. "I'm really not. And I… I don't like knowing that you only think of me as a coward."
Harry gaped at him. Draco hadn't planned to be that honest. Now that he said it, he watched Harry's reaction closely.
"You… I… What? Why?"
Draco couldn't help it. He snorted.
Harry's gaze darkened. "Are you laughing at me?"
He shook his head. "No, but your expression was rather…" he trailing off, unable to find a word, though Harry seemed to understand.
"So is this," he said gesturing the space of the bathroom, though Draco took it to mean his change, "is because you don't want me to think you're a coward or because you don't want to think of yourself as a coward?"
Draco frowned, stunned. He wasn't prepared to be questioned like that. "I… I don't know. Maybe both, I guess."
He made a small sound that could have been a laugh or a whimper. No one had ever asked him something like that before. Harry gave him an indecipherable look, and Draco was too raw and exposed to respond. He stared back, feeling very vulnerable all of a sudden like right after he had been stripped down and called a coward. Or after he had taken the Dark Mark. Or when he had stood for the Wizengamot and thought he was going to go to Azkaban. Harry's sense of justice and honor had the power to do that.
"I'm not forgiving you, Malfoy," Harry said in a low tone that was neither antagonistic nor smug.
"But you'll give me a chance?" Draco said hopefully, unashamed of how childish his voice seemed.
Harry stared at him unblinking, and Draco tried to imagine what that gaze would feel like full of admiration and fondness.
"We'll see."