Reviews:
To: James Birdsong Thank you, I am glad you like them:)
What a World
Chapter Four
Monday morning.
Oh how he loathed it, not in general, just today, in sight of the presence of one Draco Malfoy. What an ominous bloke.
He stepped into the already-filling lecture room, quickly making himself comfortable on his usual seat.
He was looking forward to the two hours of lecture before their assigned case study time would begin. It was the only titbit of reality separating him from the blond ferret.
He took in a much-needed deep breath of air. How could one feel so winded without even having done anything?
He guessed the word he was looking for was stress.
He missed his Ginny, he had thought that maybe getting a night of sleep, would -in classic fashion- change his perception of the whole thing.
Yet it didn't, if anything it had made the whole situation that much more real, that much clearer to him.
He at last was certain that it hadn't been a dream. Dreams simply weren't that brilliant in the first place.
Not his at least.
The only consolation of her absence he had found, was the fact that they had decided to start exchanging letters. Something he was greatly looking forward to.
Letters had something personal in them, something intimate.
Not to forget that he needed to improve his writing, which would go together quite handily.
Letters, letters, would he -a mere five years ago- had seen himself as a letter kind of guy?
He didn't think so.
The way we changed, it was interesting, he was a fundamentally different person than he had been five years ago, maybe not on the surface, not in character, but in the way he saw the world, his surroundings, his morality, his outlook in life.
His greatest ambitions, his biggest fears, life was a constant paradigm shift.
Isn't it queer?
As our knowledge, our access to information increases, we amass experience. We become wiser. The essence of what we know becomes greater, our margin of error smaller.
We become harsher on ourselves and less delusional. Ideally.
World-defining problems suddenly become solvable, giving way to even graver, more complex complications whose mere existence we had ought to grasp before.
Well, that was life, he guessed.
Graver wisdom led the way to greater possibilities which brought with them greater difficulties. Queer. After all, it seemed like nothing changed, it was merely a very long shift.
But the truly important part, at least for him, laid between that.
As in the end, it was exactly this the time between, the fleeting moments of life. The transient part of it -not the legacy we left behind in career and achievement- that gave meaning to everything.
His fulfillment came from love, familiarity, and friendship, not from profession and attainment.
He looked back fondly to those Saturday evenings, curled up in front a crackling fire, an old book in hand, Ginny on his right, sharing a thick and cosy crimson throw blanket.
Once in a while meeting each other's gazes to share a quick grin as Ron and Hermione had started arguing over something pointless again.
Those were the times he had been at his happiest. Contrary he couldn't recount a single moment of academic achievement that held anything close to the weight and beauty those moments of companionship entailed.
To even think that success in career could ever come close to success in love seemed abstruse to him.
Maybe it was just him, maybe for someone like Malfoy that was different.
And he guessed that was fine too. Difference and diversity made the world go round and round.
"Are we here Mr. Potter?"
Shit.
Two hours and a quite enthralling lecture later he was about to leave the classroom. Professor Jameson had caught him daydreaming on quite a few occasions today but the old codger was at least as lenient as he was brilliant, and he had quickly taken a shining to Harry.
He suspected 40 years of teaching gave one a relatively meticulous look at what constituted a hardworking good boy, and what a lazy troublemaker. For once he would pride himself as the former.
Thankfully the old man hadn't known him at Hogwarts he thought with a grin.
But his grin quickly vanished as a familiar shadow fell over him.
He could already make out the dark grey blazer from the corner of his eyes, and the strong smell of expensive cologne told him the rest.
"Potter, are you planning on getting up, or do you need someone to give you the order?" Malfoy's voice was cold and devoid of sympathy.
"You know, if you'd wanted to play lapdog and have someone bark simple instructions at you, you could've just signed up with the Royal Marines. Less brains, more brawl, seems like your thing."
He turned towards the blond boy as he rose to his feet. Quickly -and to his annoyance- noticing that Malfoy was the same height as him, his clear grey eyes staring at him emotionless, almost seeming strenuously bored, as if the situation was extracting a great deal of energy from him.
"Do I really have to justify myself before you, or can we skip that part and simply start working on this case study." His voice coming out just as cold as Malfoy's had been.
Malfoy merely raised one perfectly coiffed eyebrow. "Justify? You? Harry Potter?" He snorted in artificial over-dramatic fashion, a slight sneer -that certainly was neither artificial nor over-dramatized- on his features. "The day one Harry Potter has to justify any of his former or future actions will be the day the world ends, your behaviour at Hogwarts taught me that."
Oh, it was going to be a long day he thought as he wordlessly turned away from the man in the blazer, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.
A painfully long day indeed.
He was making his way towards the designated study rooms, not looking back to see if Malfoy was following him.
He wasn't even religious but may god help him on this behemoth of a task.
Two minutes later he was seated in one of the -luckily- empty study rooms. His papers spread out on the table in front of him, he only gave Malfoy a quick glance as the boy entered the room, not even caring to read his expression.
"So, I have the contents of our recent three lectures ready, we may have to head to the library though, there are a few books we need, for citations, and also I want to familiarise myself with the topic a bit more."
He had decided to head straight to the point, arguing with Malfoy was useless, and simply a waste of energy as well as time, two things he was in dire need of already.
Maybe Malfoy would just agree to let it rest, let old grievances be just that, old grievances.
He made to get up with the intention of heading to the library, deciding not to wait for an answer from Malfoy.
"Potter.-"
"-Please, wait a second."
Harry stopped in his tracks, meeting Malfoy's grey eyes in reluctance, an eyebrow raised.
The blond boy merely stared at him, neither of them saying anything, until -what could've been minutes yet probably were just a few seconds- Malfoy eventually sat down, gesturing for Harry to do the same.
He contemplated for a long moment until he concluded that there was no reason in doing differently.
A policy of appeasement. He reiterated to himself. Just try to be cordial, otherwise this would never work out.
He sat down, trying not to snort at the sight that was the very diplomatic posture, Malfoy had put on.
He was sitting as if he was one of the old, grand, Prime Ministers of the early 20th century, preparing themselves to give their cabinet something akin to a good old dressing down.
Straight back, slightly puffed out chest, leaned forward, one hand propped up on the arm of his chair the other one on the table.
He appeared like an animal ready to pounce on its prey.
And it didn't surprise Harry.
Malfoy had always been highly concerned about what others thought of him as well as his public perception. The boy held a great deal of himself and carried himself in accordance to that.
But Harry was neither impressed nor intimated by the pathetic show of strength, one ought to flex his muscles at the right moment -now- he considered, wasn't that moment.
"Contrary to your arrogance and belief, I am not a total imbecile.-"
In difference to the content of his words, Malfoy's voice was surprisingly calm.
"-I can see what you're doing here, and as much as it pains me to admit, I agree it is the right course of action, constantly being at each other's throats will not help us here.-"
Harry was intrigued where Malfoy was going with this, listening attentively.
"-And I can promise, I enjoy this as much as you do, and I can only damn the fate that has decided over us working together in this, but-"
It looked like the words took a great deal of energy for him to spell out.
"-But let's try being cordial about this. And I guess I will try to tolerate your self-inflated ego for the time being."
Harry just stared at the blond man. He wasn't sure what to say, he wasn't even sure what to think.
He knew it would've taken a great deal of conscious effort for Malfoy to take a step in Harry's direction and to at least try to be diplomatic about this. To be grown up.
Yet he just wasn't quite sure if Malfoy had meant it, something inside him waited for the typical backhanded jab, the turnaround, fitted with a nasty remark about how Harry had once again been foolish enough to truly believe in the sincerity of the words spoken.
But it didn't come. At least for now. And he decided that he would shake the outstretched hand of one Draco Lucius Malfoy, for now at least.
In a metaphorical sense not to add, he'd rather die than to actually shake that git's hand.
He guessed now it was time to lay out some of the terms, that could make this uneasy alliance work after all. Bury the hatched so to say, even if the hole was shallow.
"You could start, in setting a precedent by not insulting me at the beginning of every single one sentence that comes from your mouth."
Only because they agreed to call a temporary ceasefire he would not let himself be continuously humiliated by the man sitting across from him.
"Is it so hard for the conceit-" He caught himself, he could not allow himself to be ambivalent here. He also, had to set a precedent, as much as Malfoy.
"-Is it so hard for you to speak eye to eye with me, even if only for the remainder of us working on this case study together? How about we try to interact like normal human beings." He probed.
And to his surprise Malfoy's lips slightly curved, something he had rarely seen on the man.
"Leaving out the insults for a starter? I am not sure if I can do that, it makes me feel quite indignant."
He was baffled by the reply, unsure if he liked Malfoy's honest sarcastic tone, it wasn't something he had really heard before, he only knew the malicious sarcasm the one Malfoy often bestowed upon his many enemies, mostly Harry.
But this, it was quite different, it held no spite, no animosity, it almost seemed like the man was joking.
Head spinning. Queer.
He wasn't sure if that was something that he could ever get used to.
"Now, enough procrastination, I think we have laid out our basic terms, I want to receive good marks on this case study."
And with those words Malfoy stood up, and left the room towards the library, not glancing back once to see if Harry was following.
Not that Harry could follow him. He still felt slightly lightheaded from what had just occurred, Malfoy had said something that was neither an insult nor resentful and derogatory, and he wasn't sure what to make of it, for now.
It must've been some kind of higher possession he gathered. A good spirit taking over his body. Whatever reason some poor apparition had in possessing Malfoy -of all people- he didn't know.
Either way, he had to write Ginny about it, maybe she would be wiser.
And he was totally aware of the fact that that endeavour would most likely end up as a relentless teasing session, from hers truly. Not that he minded. Well. Maybe a little.