Chapter Text
HARRY POV
Harry woke with a start to the sounds of Ron, Dean, and Seamus hurriedly moving throughout the room. Drawers opening and closing, and the sound of water running pulled him fully from his sleep. Pushing aside the heavy red curtains, sunlight bounced off the golden egg atop his nightstand, blinding Harry temporarily. The light seemed too bright for morning as his sluggish brain put two and two together - he had overslept and potions was his first class of the day. The wrath of Severus Snape was not something to be ignored so he joined the whirlwind of the other boys, reaching blindly for glasses, day old discarded robes, and half open books from the night before.
His feet moved of their own accord out of the common room, only sparing a glance at the clock above The Fat Lady’s portrait. He wouldn’t have a moment for breakfast if he was to make it down to the dungeons on time. Harry’s stomach grumbled at the thought but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with Malfoy’s snickered remarks from across the Great Hall. Ron soon made stride with him, hurrying to the moving stairs as the roar from the breakfast crowd filled the stone corridors. As they began their descent Hermione fell in step beside them, arms full of her usual overload of books.
“Where were you two this morning? You missed a wonderfully dramatic spat between the king and queen Slytherin, it was quite the show. Draco even had the nerve to storm out of the hall early and Pansy was far from pleased about it.”
“Oh, I’m sure she wasn’t,” Ron replied. “Parkinson never likes when Malfoy dares to defy her wishes. Childhood in a mansion full of house elves will do that to you. Sunshine Potter couldn’t get his arse out of bed after Flitwick had us up writing 16 inches on the history and technique of a bloody banishing charm.” Ron nudged Harry’s shoulder with an exasperated smirk. “You’ve been quiet Harry, can’t quite form the words without your morning pumpkin juice?”
Harry chuckled, “Sorry, always get a bit dazed when I almost miss potions. You know Snape would have my head and a month’s detention if I managed to miss out on his exhilarating lectures on the uses of dittany.”
“You know,” Hermione cut in, “if you actually took time to prepare for your classes instead of fawning over Cho Chang every waking second, you might actually have time to get a full nights rest once in a while.” Ron rolled his eyes so hard Harry feared they might fall out of his head. He responded noncommittally to Hermione’s dig as they approached the heavy door of the potions classroom. Malfoy was already seated front and center, his books splayed out across the workbench in a clear mark of territory. As Pansy approached, the purposeful thud of a textbook in her usual spot drew the eyes of many in the class.
“Parkinson must’ve really fucked up if Malfoy won’t even let her near him,” Ron whispered to Harry. With a chuckle, they took their usual spot in the back corner, as Hermione continued to the front and settled in for a mind numbing class.
***
The rest of Harry’s day passed uneventfully; his charms essay was unsurprisingly 3 inches short, but aside from Flitwicks look of disappointment all he could do was hope for a calm evening and a quick return to bed. His stomach carried him to the Great Hall, focusing solely on the smell of roast meat and spiced cakes. Without the accompanying voices of Hermione and Ron, Harry’s mind fell to the puzzle of the golden egg waiting for him in his dormitory. It had sat there for almost three weeks now and nothing had come of it except for the occasional headache. Possibilities of the future task and deciphering the egg's mysteries tumbled through his head until he barreled into a ruffled-looking Pansy Parkinson.
“Sure you don’t need a better pair of glasses, Potter?” Parkinson spat at him, furiously wiping at her cheeks.
With his mouth agape at the streaks on the slytherin’s face, Harry stumbled out a “Um no, sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was headed.”
“Obviously!” The girl sneered back. Her expression was softer than the usual slytherin facade she wore, and Harry had an unusual pang of confusion at her expression. Parkinson rose, brushing imaginary dust from her robes, and Harry awkwardly began to follow her towards the Great Hall.
“Are you...all right Parkinson?” he asked cautiously. The glare he got in return could have cut through a Gringotts vault.
“I am perfectly fine, Potter. Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t come to the likes of you, or anyone with your gryffindor savior complex. You can go back to whatever daydream of Cho Chang made you blunder into me in the first place.” She stalked off towards the slytherin table and the waiting sneer of Malfoy. His expression seemed more vile than usual, and for once, not pointed at Harry. He continued into the Great Hall, his mouth watering at the promise of good food and relaxation alongside friends. He sat down facing the opposite side of the room, eyes instantly drawn to the yet again bickering pair of slytherins.
“What do you think has their knickers in a twist?” Harry asked, motioning roughly to the conflict with a glass full of pumpkin juice and a growing plate of food. “Don’t get me wrong, seeing Malfoy get the bad end of the stick is endlessly entertaining but I don’t think I’ve ever seen those two this prickly.”
“I heard the ferret called Parkinson’s mum a right whore and said if she had just settled down with a guy, Parkinson might’ve turned out alright.” Seamus called from down the table.
“I heard Malfoy made a bet with Zabini over how long it would take for her to give it up to someone and Parkinson found out this morning. Zabini apparently apologized but Malfoy wouldn’t. Said he the made the bet for a reason.” Ginny added.
“I’m sure it’s something ridiculous like Malfoy’s mother not returning a prized possession of the Parkinson’s. Purebloods and their family heirlooms, I don’t understand it.” Hermione said. As Harry continued to load his plate he kept a subtle eye on the two across the room.
“Why do you care so much about whatever mess the ferret’s gotten himself into, huh Harry?” Ron asked, a sausage dangling from his mouth. Harry shrugged, taking a moment to wonder why he did actually care. Whatever it was, it wouldn't let him forget Parkinson’s splotchy face.
“I bumped into Parkinson outside the Hall and she looked well and truly sad. ” There was a moment of quiet confusion among the gryffindors. “I guess I don’t really care, it just struck me as odd to see a snake doing anything but hissing.” Snickers rang out at the comment as Ron choked on his food. Hermione slapped his back without looking up from her Potions work. “More fuel for irritating Malfoy though, so the more the better.” Ron nodded in agreement as the gryffindors dissolved into smaller conversations.
Harry fell deep in thought, his eyes drifting subconsciously towards the ravenclaw table where the head of a particularly alluring girl snuggled into the chest of none other than Cedric Diggory. He let out an unconscious scoff. When Hermione raised an eyebrow at his remark, he mumbled “Diggory and Cho are at it again. Can’t even keep to their own tables anymore. Honestly, I don’t see what she sees in him.” Hermione gave him a perplexed look.
“Yes, Harry why would Cho ever be interested in Cedrics perfectly ruffled hair, natural charm, and ability to hold an actual conversation with the opposite sex?”
“Hey, I can talk to girls perfectly well. I do it with you all the time!” She rolled her eyes at this in an almost perfect imitation of Ron's earlier expression.
“Harry, as famous as you are, your social skills have never been your strong suit. Last time you made eye contact with Cho, you dribbled pumpkin juice down your jumper. I certainly wouldn’t call that ‘good conversation.” He opened his mouth to respond but got cut off with the sound of Parkinson’s shriek.
“You’re a right git Draco, you know that? I thought you would've grown out of your arrogance by now but clearly I was wrong!”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a prude all the time you’d be more accustomed to pomp.” Malfoy yelled from across the hall. “I’ve got some common sense for you, remove the stick up your arse and see if that helps you learn how to take a joke!” A tense silence blanketed the entire hall as Parkinson stood and stalked out with a final huff. Wide eyed, Harry turned to his friends with disbelief written across his face. The trio dissolved into quiet laughter as mumbling conversations erupted throughout the houses.
“We might just be witnessing history here, mates. Didn’t think I’d ever see the day weasel and co. had an actual falling out,” Ron chuckled. Hermione smacked his arm lightly.
“Ronald be nice. We know better than anyone how much of a prick Malfoy can be when he puts his mind to it. And slytherin or not, Pansy shouldn’t have bets placed on her sex life by her closest friends.” She looked pointedly at the two boys.
“You don’t actually think Ron or I would ever be that cruel, do you ‘mione?” Harry was incredulous. He knew him and Ron loved to poke fun at Hermione’s more eccentric interests but they would never go so far as to put galleons on her love life. They both knew that’d be a losing bet either way.
Hermione hmed to herself. “I wouldn’t put it past anyone in a moment of anger. Besides, I’m sure Pansy has to deal with stuff like that all the time. That kind of talk takes its toll on a person.” Ron and Harry shared a look of dismay.
“I’m sorry are you actually trying to defend Pansy fucking Parkinson right now? When did we fall into an alternate universe where you stand up for a pureblood like her?” Ron looked to Harry for backup and he gave an unconvincing, “Yeah Hermione.”
She shrugged and said “You two wouldn’t understand. Girls have to stick together, even if some girls are occasionally blood racist snakes.” Ron just shook his head, reaching for Hermione’s glass. Nose scrunched, he sniffed her cider suspiciously.
“Nope, doesn’t smell like any mind magic potions I know.” Ron handed the drink back to her.
“You couldn’t smell a mandrake from boomslang skin if they were labeled!” Hermione chided. As the pair began to bicker further about the strength of Ron’s nose, (Hermione was, of course, right on this one) Harry turned his attention back to the slytherin side of the hall. Malfoy was staring intently at him and he resisted the urge to turn and see if there was something behind him. He stuffed a bit of pastry in his mouth and when he looked back up Malfoy’s eyes were still on him, glaring. A yawn built its way up Harry’s throat and he turned back to his friends.
“I’m heading back to the common room to at least attempt the mountain of reading Snape gave us today.” Ron nodded solemnly.
“Good luck mate, you’re a braver man than I. Snape’s lucky if I open the textbook this term.” Hermione shook her head in exasperation but nodded at Harry as he gathered his books and made his way to the empty corridor. He had no actual intention of trying to understand his potions homework but wanted a few moments of quiet to ponder the egg still waiting in his room. Again, his thoughts turned to the tournament and the ever impending ball. He worried over who to ask since Cho was clearly out of the question. Cedric’s constant presence wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise, and it would be the tale of the century if The Boy Who Lived showed up to the dance without a date. Even the thought of dancing with McGonagall for the champions entrance had him cringing.
The drafty corridor made the sound of approaching footsteps that much louder, but Harry kept on, wanting to avoid any meaningless small talk with his classmates. Instead, he was shoved to the ground, books flying across the hall. As quick as he could turn, Harry already knew who would be facing him. Above him stood Malfoy, wand pointed at down at his opponent, pale face looking practically ethereal in the brazier’s light. He moved to speak, but Malfoy beat him to it.
“Shut it, Potter. Save your lies for someone more gullible.” Lies?
“Malfoy, what do you me-”
“Playing the fool again, are we? Is that your only defense mechanism? Can’t hold your own in a duel to save your life so might as well just play stupid.” The usual bite of Malfoy’s remarks were softened by Harry’s own exasperation.
“I really don’t know what you’re on about Malfoy, and I really haven't the time-”
“Oh I’m so sorry Potter,” Malfoy sneered. “Did I interrupt your next heroic mission? Fat chance you’d do any good. Now what did you say to Pansy?” The tip of his wand edged closer, almost touching Harry’s chin.
“Pansy? Why would I have done anything to Pansy?”
“I saw you two walk in together before dinner. She had been crying. What did you do?” Malfoy’s voice echoed slightly off the corridor walls and he was close enough for Harry to see a determined glint in his eyes. He spluttered for a moment, caught off guard by the protective instincts of Malfoy. Sure, they’d had their share of fights but not over things like this.
“Malfoy I found her like that. I didn’t do anything! Have you considered that maybe you or Zabini had something to do with it considering you’ve been fighting all day?” The boy's wand dropped slightly.
“We have not been fighting all day. Disagreements happen all the time and Pansy doesn’t know how to take a bloody joke.”
“Betting on your mate's virginity doesn’t seem like a very funny joke.” Malfoy’s wand grew firm under Harry’s chin as he leaned closer. His breath smelled of spiced apples and Harry almost wanted to lean closer.
“Listen here, Potter.” Harry flinched at his name said like a curse. “You know nothing of Pansy and I’s friendship, and you should do well to keep your nose out of other people’s business in the future.”
“Don’t cause scenes in the Great Hall and I will, ferret.” Malfoy’s eyes flashed in a moment of fear, and Harry smirked. Moody’s lesson wouldn’t soon be forgotten by the slytherin. With a shove, Harry was pushed back to the floor, his glasses narrowly missing another fracture. Hermione would not be pleased if he asked her to fix them again. He wanted to reach for his wand, at the very least stun the slytherin but it lay out of reach among his textbooks. Instead, he twisted back towards Malfoy with a good ol’ fashioned right hook. The hit took him by surprise, giving Harry a moment to stand and right his glasses.
“I should hex you for that,”Draco reached a hand towards his jawline. “but I have more important uses for my time. Stay away or you won’t be as lucky next time, scarface.”
“Your empty threats are truly petrifying, I’m shaking in my boots,” Harry mocked. With a final glare, Malfoy stalked back towards the great hall, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. As aggravating as they could be, Harry had to admire slytherin’s talent for facades. He struggled to his feet and clumsily gathered his books with one last look towards the great hall. Silver eyes met green, and Harry had a bad feeling about the coming weeks.
***
DRACO POV
Checking his mouth for a split lip, Draco sauntered back towards Blaise in the Great Hall. His friend raised an eyebrow at him.
“Not getting into fights with Potter again, are we?” Malfoy shook his head.
“Not fights, just making sure pretty boy knows his place. You saw Pansy’d been crying when they came to dinner together right? We can bicker all he wants, but she should be kept out of it.” Blaise just nodded uninterested, and returned to his roast dinner. Malfoy sat for a moment, adrenalin still going strong from the climactic end to his interaction with Potter. Mindlessly he began to tap on the edge of the table, turning over what the gryffindor had said in his head. Pansy hadn’t been crying over their disagreement right? It was just a joke, an excuse to make a few galleons off of his friends. She of all people knew how boring Hogwarts could get, surely she couldn’t blame him for that. No Potter must’ve done something; he was just being a coward about owning up to it to. Draco itched to go find the boy again, continue to hash things out and throw a punch or two himself. He rarely had the desire to stoop to physical fighting but something about Potter and his stupid face always made his blood boil.
His tapping grew more incessant and Blaise gave him a strong side eye. The image of Potter’s face screwed up in anger flashed through his mind; his eyes were bright, fists clenched at his sides, hair mussed from being pushed. Draco could really do with a good fight right now, just to get his energy out. Food completely forgotten and leg beginning to bounce he stood abruptly. A few heads turned his way as Blaise spoke up.
“Are you alright Draco? You seem unreasonably tense”
“I’m fine,” he snapped. “Just need to get some air, I’ll see you in the common room.” Blaise hummed skeptically but let Draco leave, hands shoved deep in his robes. He walked through the courtyard of the school to the banks of the Black Lake where he began to pace. Stupid Potter with his stupid excuses, and his stupid hair, making Pansy cry and then having the gall to lie about it. He trudged back and forth, restlessly playing with the ring on his finger. His mind kept playing back the fight: the gryffindors face pinched in barely contained rage, his stupid smirk when he dared to call Draco a ferret, the green of his eyes piercing into Draco’s very soul. Piercing into his soul? Even Draco’s mind was beginning to betray him. With a huff, the slytherin began to pace faster pulling out his wand as another thing to occupy his hands. The hawthorne stick spun between his fingers, mind racing faster than Draco could keep up with. Even after three years, it always shocked him how riled up Potter’s incessant stupidity could get him. He had to find out what scarface had said to Pansy so he could fix things with her. The ball was approacher quicker than he expected and he’d bring immeasurable shame if he showed up without a date to an internationally attended soiree. And while Pansy and his relationship was far from romantic she was much more bearable than the bulk of the female student body. It wouldn’t be the first time Potter made his life incredibly more complicated.
Deciding to head back and look for Pansy, Draco looked up to find that very same girl walking glumly towards the lake. Her head drooped uncharacteristically, and Draco’s heart gave a little pang. He was going to hex Potter into oblivion, his friend had never looked so vulnerable, it wasn’t becoming of members of high wizarding society. He took a deep breath, settled his wand back within his robes, and went to approach his friend.
The grass must’ve muffled his steps as Pansy tensed and raised her wand at his sudden voice. Her eyes looked panicked for a moment, before settling into her usual look of disdain.
“Hey Pans,” Draco began. “It’s just me, no need to shoot a spell in my direction.” Pansy rolled her eyes with a grimace.
“What do you want Draco?”
“I just wanted to talk to you. I saw you crying at dinner over whatever Potter did.” A look of confusion crossed Pansy’s face. “He’ll pay for whatever he said to you, you have my word. I just want to know if I should punch him or full on hex him.” The girl stopped abruptly, causing Draco to backpedal slightly. Her eyebrows drew together, lips pulled tight to her teeth as she spoke.
“What do you mean what Potter said?”
“Pansy what do you think I mean? He obviously was a prat outside the Great Hall, that’s why you came in all puffy-eyed and unkempt.” Pansy gave him an exasperated look.
“Are you actually daft Malfoy?” The boy didn’t respond. “Potter,” she said with a sneer, “didn’t do anything. Well, he almost ran me over but he wasn’t the reason I was ‘unkempt’.”
“You’re not making any sense. Why else would you have been crying?” Pansy’s grip tightened on her wand, her eyes beginning to fill with a fiery rage. Draco put his hands up in a gesture of peace but it only made Pansy more irritated.
“You are making a bat-bogey hex sound very tempting Draco, so I would proceed with caution. Why do you think I’d be crying after finding out my two best friends are no better than the rest of the male population at this godforsaken school? What part of ‘it’s not funny’ can you not get through your pretentious skull? Huh?” The tip of Pansy’s wand edged closer to Draco and the flash of fear was quickly replaced with annoyance.
“You’re not still mad about that bet, are you? It was a joke Pansy! Just a way to make a few galleons off of knowing you better than Blaise!” Pansy’s eyes blazed.
“You foul, loathsome little cretin! Of course I’m still mad about that because you-” She jabbed her wand at Draco’s nose, “never actually apologized for something that quite obviously made me very upset!” The boy rolled his eyes, which he instantly regretted when Pansy shot a stinging jinx his way. He staggered back, one side of his face now red and irritated.
“What the fuck Pansy!” She looked almost pleased but still fumed with rage.
“Blaise at least had the capacity to realize that he crossed a line and apologized! You can’t even see past your failed attempt at humour! God Draco get over yourself and learn how to be a good bloody friend!” With that Pansy turned on her heel and practically ran back towards the castle, as Draco pointed a counter-jinx at his face.
Truly, he didn’t understand why Pansy was taking this so hard. To be pushed to tears over a joke was unlike her and it made Draco worry about her emotional state. He shook his head, deciding to leave her be until the morning. Maybe she just needed rest to see how preposterous she was reacting. There was, however, the unfortunate revelation that Potter had gotten a punch in over nothing and that quickly replaced his annoyance with embers of hatred. Straightening his robes, Draco began the walk back to the castle, certain that this would all blow over soon.
***
HARRY POV
The following days were tense with excitement and nerves as the Yule Ball loomed closer than ever. With only a week left, McGonagall led daily ballroom lessons while Harry and Ron panicked over their lack of dates. The pair had just endured their first lesson amidst relentless teasing from the Weasley twins.
“I don’t understand why it matters if I know the bloody waltz or fox trot. At this point, we’ll be lucky to have dates at all, let alone dance with them,” Ron muttered unhappily.
“Yeah well, I’ve got to figure something out before Saturday. I’d be the laughingstock of the school if I was the only champion to show up without a date.”
“Good news Potter, you’re already a laughingstock, especially with that horrid haircut.” Malfoy’s posh accent cut through the rumble of the crowd around them as he walked past, flanked by Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.
“You’re one to talk Malfoy. You have enough gel in your hair to clog every drain in the school.” Zabini chuckled at that but fell silent with a look from the other slytherins. “Anyway it’s not as if you have a date either. Parkinson’s not around to be your picture perfect backup I’m afraid,” Harry shot back at the blonde.
“What would you know about Pansy and I? Not like you talk to slytherins in a civilized matter anyway.”
“Not like you give us the opportunity, weasel,” Ron glared at them, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. “C’mon, this isn’t worth the time or effort.” The pair continued on towards the gryffindor common room with Malfoy’s gang trailing behind them.
“I look forward to seeing your hand-me-down robes at the dance, Weasley. Hope your grandmother’s lace frock fits you nicely!” Harry had to stop Ron from starting an all out duel in the middle of a corridor.
“Another time Ron,” Harry mumbled. They made their way through the portrait of the fat lady and into the cozy common room. Hermione had already grabbed their usual spot by the fire; anyone brave enough to try and steal a chair would’ve had to move the mountains of books she brought with her.
“Hey Hermione,” Ron mumbled, flopping down on the unoccupied end of the couch.
“What’s got into you Ron? The end of the day usually makes you more chipper than this.” Harry began to rearrange books so he’d have a spot to sit while the redhead considered his response to Hermione.
“It’s Malfoy, the prat. He always knows how to get me angry and I wish he wasn’t so bloody good at it.” Hermione gave Harry a questioning look.
“He’s on about the Yule Ball, making fun of Ron’s robes before he’s even wore them,” Harry explained.
“I mean, he’s right unfortunately!” Ron exclaimed. “But it’s not like me or mum has the extra Galleons to get a pair of proper ones, especially on such short notice. Maybe that’s what making getting a date so complicated, no one wants to be seen with me in my nan’s old robes.” Harry almost chuckled at that image, but choked it back down at the slightly pained look on Ron’s face.
“I’m sure it’s not that mate. You know how girls are about asking boys to dances, they expect us to do all the work. We just have to find some that are available and ask.” Ron somehow looked more glum but perked up suddenly and turned towards Hermione, nose deep in a transfiguration book.
“Hermione,” Ron began. “Are you going with someone?” She barely glanced up.
“Yes.” The boys shared slightly shocked looks before Harry spoke.
“Well? Who is it?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’m not going to bother.”
“Why wouldn’t we believe you?” Harry asked.
“Because I’m going with Viktor Krum.” She continued reading her book, as if she hadn’t just dropped a mind blowing statement. Once Ron picked his jaw up off the floor, he began to sputter.
“You? Going with Krum? You’ve got to be joking ‘mione!”
“Ron don’t be rude,” Harry interjected. “Why wouldn’t Krum want to go with Hermione? She’s smart, and capable, and fairly nice looking.”
“Thank you, Harry.” Ron continued to splutter, eyes passing between his friends with a mild look of betrayal.
“When’d he even ask you? Isn’t there usually an entourage of first-years following him around?
”
“We ended up studying in the same section of the library. Actually that wasn’t the weirdest part of my day though,” she said as she closed her book. “I found Pansy Parkinson crying behind the restricted section!” Ron let out a barking laugh.
“That’s bollocks!” he said in shock. “What happened, did mummy dearest cut off her funds?” Hermione and Harry shared a mild frown.
“No actually, she’s been having a really rough time of it apparently. Bad enough she didn't instantly bite my head off when I found her.”
“Did she tell you what was wrong?” Harry asked, to the complete surprise of his best friend.
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about a slytherin Harry.” Ron interjected. With a roll of her eyes, Hermione went on.
“Apparently, her and Malfoy still haven’t made up from that spat they had last week. Zabini’s been nice enough but she’s been sitting alone at meals, and her mom’s going through another divorce. I think Pansy really liked the guy this time, so she’s taking it really hard.” Harry let the new information process for a moment as Ron shared his increasing exasperation.
“Hermione, you do remember this is a girl that has joined Malfoy in calling you a mudblood right?” His voice was incredulous but Hermione nodded solemnly.
“Trust me I don’t forget it lightly. But she was sobbing, and I’m not mean enough to just leave her there! Besides, we’re still kids and she keeps Malfoy as company. Who’s to say she’s not just scared and looking to protect herself?” Ron shook his head in disbelief.
“I can see where you might be coming from, but I still don’t like it,” Harry added. “Though it does surprise me how long she and Malfoy have been fighting.”
“Why does it matter anyway?” Ron said. “It’s not like that’ll effect us at all. Unless it magically gets us dates for the ball, I don’t care.” Harry let out an involuntary chuckle even as Hermione glared at the pair.
“Well in the mean time we’ve all got papers due for McGonagall and I’m sure you two haven't even started yet.”
“You’d have that right,” Harry groaned. Reluctantly the boys got out their books and quills in an attempt to get some form of homework done, even as the looming crisis of the ball drew closer.
***
DRACO POV
“And by the end of the week I expect you all to have perfected your proposals for the end of term of project. While I am aware the Yule Ball is this weekend, I maintain my high standards for your work. Do not disappoint me.” With that, Professor Snape waved towards the door, dismissing class. Draco began to gather his books and was on his way out of the room when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “A word, Draco?” Snape asked. Draco nodded and stepped out of the way of the other students. He was racking his brain in the silence, trying to think of what he’d done to warrant a word with the head of slytherin house. When nothing came to mind, he began to pick at the corner of his potions books.
“Stop fidgeting boy, there’s no need for alarm,” Snape said calmly.
“Sorry sir. What did you want to talk about?” The cover had begun to peel up on its own and Draco continue to scratch at it.
“Are you doing alright?” Draco’s shoulders dropped slightly. “Your lack of enthusiasm towards the assignment worries me. Usually, you’re far ahead of the curriculum and brimming with ideas for this sort of thing.” Snape’s faced was pinched with an unusual expression as Draco collected his thoughts.
“I’m alright sir. Just been distracted lately, I’m sorry for any drop in my usual performance.” With a nod of his head Draco began to head for the door, he didn’t want to be late to transfiguration again. Before he could get very far, Snape reached an arm out hesitating to physically restrain the boy.
“Are you sure? This isn’t like you Draco, and this close to holiday I worry about your father’s reaction should these distractions impair your schoolwork.” The boy stiffened at the mention of father.
“It’s silly teenage squabbles, sir. I’ll make sure to get you my project idea by Friday.” Determined to not be any later for his class, Draco moved for the door and this time Snape let him go. The halls were nearly empty which was a blessing. Any witnesses to Draco’s half run towards McGonagall’s room would’ve been quickly silenced. Of course, where the universe gives it also takes which meant the only seats left upon his arrival were those next to Pansy or Potter. His tardiness drew the eyes of the whole class as Pansy spread her books out that much farther to fill the desk she sat at.
“Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall began, “Do you have a reason for your tardiness?”
“Snape held me back Professor.”
“Hm. Five points from slytherin and please take your seat next to Potter. I expect no further disruptions.” Her raised eyebrow held enough threat that Malfoy swallowed his objections and places his books next to Potter’s. Of course, he couldn’t hold back a sneer in the boys direction which Potter returned. Professor McGonagall began her lecture again as Draco pulled out his parchments.
“Today we shall begin to understand the precise technique for the Vera Verto spell in hopes of you successfully transforming a common mouse into a goblet and back again.” Draco fell into the lull of taking detailed notes on the subject, the as the sound of scratching quills filled the room. While potions had many more practical applications, he could admit that transfiguration was an interesting subject. The class passed without much hassle even seated next to Potter. As the hourglass began to dwindle Draco made the poor decision of glancing over at Potter’s notes, more accurately Potter’s doodles. A baffled gasp escaped Draco’s lips making Potter’s eyes snap to his.
“Are you serious?” Draco whispered. “You haven’t taken a single note this entire class?” Potter shrugged in response, returning to the swirls filling in a...mandrake? Maybe a dragon? Draco wasn’t quite sure. “Of course the Boy Who Lived gets a pass in classes,” he mumbled.
“I don’t get a pass in classes! I just don’t see the point of notes when all the information is in our books,” Harry whispered back.
“Notes help you remember the information without the book Potter.” Potter scoffed at that, sounding mildly insulted.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Malfoy, but I do perfectly fine without notes. And Hermione helps me study if I ask nicely.”
Draco scoffed. “Of course you rely on her. You’d be a lost cause without it.”
“Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall’s voice rang sharply through the room and Draco sighed to himself before pasting on a look of innocence.
“Yes, Professor?”
“What did I say about no disruptions? Or would you like to share your conversation with the rest of us?
“Sorry Professor, it won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” With a final glare at the side of Potter’s head, Draco returned to his notes and the last moments of the class passed without issue. As McGonagall said her final remarks and dismissed the students, Draco kept his eyes on the back of Pansy’s head. She was very quick to pack up her things, and the boy had to messily shove things in his bag to follow her out of the room.
“Pansy!” He called as he tried to catch up with her. He lengthened his stride and fell into step beside her. “Hey Pans,” he said hesitantly.
Keeping her eyes forward she bit out, “What do you want?”
“To talk. To have my friend back. I was hoping we could still go to the Yule Ball together actually and it’s less than a week away now.” Pansy continued to stare straight froward, her jaw tensing slightly. Her reply came out quietly,
“I’m afraid that’s not an option anymore Malfoy.” Malfoy? She never called him that, she knew how much he hated it. “I’ve already been asked by someone, and I said yes.” Shock tinged with betrayal coursed through Draco’s body.
“What? Who! Pansy, we agreed we’d go together as soon as the tournament was announced!”
“That was before you were a massive prat.” She stepped to one side of the corridor outside her next class, and Draco followed.
“Pansy I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would be so hurt by all of this.”
“That’s not actually an apology,” she bit out.
“Look can we please talk about this?” He lowered his voice, quickly remembering they were in a public space. “C’mon, skip class. We can go down to the lake and work things out.” Pansy shook her head.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, I quite like divination.” With that, she headed up the stairs to the astronomy tower and Draco let out a small growl of frustration. As he headed to his next class Draco had the upsetting realization that he didn’t know how to fix this.