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A gust of icy wind blew through the biting December air. Harry shivered and rubbed his hands together in a futile attempt to stay warm, watching clouds of white, frosty smoke emitting from his mouth every time he exhaled.
The other eight-years were playing some party game in the special common room that had been assigned to them – special circumstances, as McGonagall had called it – but Harry wasn't in the mood. He often found himself seeking moments of solitude these days, trying to come to grips with everything that had happened back in May. The rowdiness of the common room could at times be overwhelming.
His solitary reflections were suddenly interrupted by a quiet, yet familiar voice.
“No Weasley today, Potter?”
“Malfoy,” said Harry in way of greeting. “What are you doing out here?”
Blowing out a puff of frosty air, Malfoy kicked at something invisible on the ground. “I could ask you the same thing. It's freezing.” As to underline his point, he hunched his shoulders, hands tucked in his pockets.
Harry eyes him wearily. He hadn't spoken much with Malfoy this year. In fact, the Slytherin had kept mostly to himself, despite the rest of the eight-years getting along rather well. There had been whispers about him, rumours concerning his Dark Mark. Harry didn't really care for all the gossip, though. He knew Malfoy was trying his best, and that was enough for him.
Not for the first time did he feel a strange urge to get to know Malfoy better.
They didn't say anything else for several minutes, merely standing there in awkward silence. Harry couldn't think of anything else to say, yet leaving when Malfoy had purposefully sought him out felt like a waste.
“The common room's too noisy,” said Malfoy finally. “You couldn't even hear a Hippogriff drop.”
Harry snorted. A memory of slashing claws flashed through his mind. Perhaps Malfoy had grown more than Harry had thought if he could joke about Hippogriffs.
"I'll be happy to introduce you to a Hippogriff I know," Harry teased with a grin.
Colouring slightly, Malfoy pulled a face. "Er, thanks. I'll consider it."
Somehow, Harry suddenly felt a million times lighter.