Friends

Harry, Ron and Hermione were walking towards the Great Hall, talking amicably and hoping to get there in time to actually get some food. Ronald, in particular, was starving and, following the thought of toast with eggs, his stomach let out a noise of discontent.

"Really Ronald! You'd have thought you'd not been fed for a week," Hermione Granger, a buck toothed, frizzy haired girl admonished. She was the brainy, somewhat nagging and bossy part of the Golden Trio.

Harry laughed and patted his gangly ginger friend on the shoulder as they entered the hall. There, all banter stopped between the three, as jeers and insults floated from the Slytherin table. Not, this time however, directed at any one of them, the cruel remarks were thrown frivolously at none other than the Silver Price, Draco Malfoy.

"Deserves it, the git," muttered Ron, his nasty streak showing.

Harry, who was staring intently at the blond wonder, absently slapped his friend on the arm with the back of his pale hand. "Shut up, Ron."

Hermione, who'd not deigned to comment so far, just glared between the two boys and sat, spreading jam onto a barely-done piece of toast. After a moment more of Harry staring and Ron sulking, she cleared her throat. The attention of both boys directed at her, she motioned towards the table with a raised eyebrow, indicating that they should sit and stop gawking.

Ron obeyed, as he often did – Hermione had a way of reminding his of his mother – and started piling food upon his plate, scarfing down sausages, bacon and eggs hungrily.

Harry, however, ignored her. Malfoy looked withdrawn, almost like he was pretending he was immune to anything his housemates were saying. Their taunts grew aver more petty and evil the longer he showed no emotion, and Harry could tell the boy was close to breaking point, his lips quivering slightly and his eyes having taken on a dull sheen.

Making a decision, rather abruptly, Harry stormed over to the serpent house's table and yanked Marcus Flint up off the bench by his shirt collar. The boy, a large, hefty, monobrowed bully, stopped what he was saying and stared dumbly up at Harry. It was it this point that Harry thanked Merlin for his growth spurt over the summer, it having made him taller and leaner with a lot more muscle than most of his peers.

"What d'you want Potter?" The name was spat with such venom that Harry almost flinched. It reminded him of how… Anyway, Harry cleared his throat.

"I want you to stop being such a massive prick. Stop harassing Malfoy and grow a pair you overgrown ape."

At this, several of Marcus' cronies, plus many of the other snakes who'd been making snide remarks, drew their wands. Before any one of them could cast though, Harry had dropped Flint onto the bench and drawn his own, casting a quick Expelliarmus Maximus over the whole lot of them, disarming them before they could do something too stupid.

Draco, in the mean time, had inched away until he was standing behind Harry, 'his saviour'. The blond boy composed himself and discretely poked Harry in the ribs, letting him know that he didn't need saving. Draco, of course, knew this to be a lie, but he couldn't let everyone think he was a coward.

Harry turned, a small smile on his face which Draco unwittingly returned, almost as if he'd been Imperious'd. He'd later tell himself that it was actually because Harry's smile had been so genuine, that Draco was starting to think differently about him.

Right now though, there were still over a hundred Slytherins out to get him, and he had nowhere to hide. "Um. Potter. Could I have a word? Please?"

Harry was so taken aback by the use of a polite word from the boy, that he instantly nodded, following the fair haired boy out of the door into the main corridor. Once they'd found somewhere private enough, which ended up being an abandoned History of Magic classroom, they each sat, Draco staring around awkwardly and Harry staring intently. "So…" Harry prompted. "What was it you wanted?"

"I wanted to say thanks, I guess. I'm not used to people sticking up for me, much less people who are supposed to hate my guts. It's… nice. So thank you." The boys usually pale features were tinged with a hint of pink, high on his cheekbones and around his ears as he fiddled with his green and sliver striped tie.

"No need to thank me, M-Draco. It's just basic human decency, really. I would have done the same for anyone else. Although, I must admit, I don't 'hate your guts' as you put it. You're just a bit of a snob sometimes. Recently though… I've seen a change in you-" Malfoy's head shot up from where he's been looking out the window. "- and I think, maybe, if you were to introduce yourself to me now, I might just take your hand."