Chapter 16
Despite having taken most of the same classes last year, the curriculum was different enough that Draco still had a hard time keeping up his grades. He still had to put up with being the scapegoat of Slytherin. The holidays were looming ever closer. He had dreams of Azkaban almost every night. But there was also this: Potter sending him looks across classrooms - rolling his eyes at him when Slughorn's monologues were derailed by anecdotes about his famous former students; looking exasperated when McGonagall announced the horrendous length requirements for papers in transfiguration. He wasn't sure if it was because of Granger's warning, but they did not say hi to each other in the halls. Instead they exchanged imperceptible nods, and Draco found that this was actually better. Befriending Potter became easier the less public it was. It kept Potter's private army of devoted fans from interfering. It kept Draco from letting his public relations awareness from trying to spin their every interaction.
They went flying again. Over the forest, almost to the mountains before they turned back. By then the days had gotten short and even though it wasn't that late, dark had fallen and it felt like the middle of the night when they walked back to the castle. Draco listened to the sound of their footsteps as they made their way up to the hill. The air smelled of the coming frost. They were quiet – they had been yelling and howling when they flew, but now they walked silently almost shoulder to shoulder.
"I'll see you after the holidays," said Potter when they stood inside the entrance hall, just before they split up.
"Have a nice Christmas," said Draco.