DRARRY - Wonderful Wheezes

Chapter Nine

"Ah."

"I know you care about them, Malfoy." Harry could tell he should drop it, but something made him keep pushing. "It's no different from how I feel about Luna or Dean. I'd miss them if they were away."

"No different." He said it really slowly, like he was turning the words over and examining them for flaws. "You think we have that much in common, that our relationships with people from Hogwarts are 'no different?'"

"I think there's plenty we have in common. Not just surviving the war, Malfoy. I'm talking about other stuff."

"Like caring about our friends? That's hardly the revelation of the century, most do."

"Not as many as you think. And there are other things."

"I know you want me to ask what they are, Potter. I'm not going to."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, fair enough." He struggled to think of anything. "We both went to Hogwarts, for one."

Malfoy gave an obnoxious fake gasp.

"Stop that. We're both, er... drinking lager."

"At a pub? Salazar, that can't be a coincidence."

"Shut up. We erm... fuck, I don't know. We're both into blokes!" he said triumphantly, only realising after he did how drunk he must be to admit that to Malfoy of all people.

Malfoy raised his brows, leaning back in his chair and not looking remotely impressed. "What are you trying to prove, again?"

"That you should try to contact Goyle."

"I can see how you got there but he's not really my type."

"Merlin, you're so frustrating. You know that's not what I mean!"

"Right. You mean that because we have things in common you somehow understand a fundamental part of my psyche or some rubbish and that means that I should try calling Goyle even though I haven't spoken directly to him in years and I hate the telephone."

"Yes!"

"Because if you were me you'd miss him."

"Yes!" Harry said again.

"Pfft."

"Pfft? Don't pfft me. I'm not saying anything that isn't true."

"Pfft. And I'd do it again. One of the things I'm most grateful for in this life is that I don't have to hang onto my past." He paused. "If that's what you want to do, Potter, I won't stop you. It just isn't for me. Goyle was... well, I wouldn't exactly call him a good friend, but he was there. And he would never have wronged me. I'm glad to know he's alive, but, frankly, that's all I need from him. No more contact necessary. Not everyone is you—not everyone wants to go back to their Hogwarts days."

Was that really all it was? Did Harry spend so much time trying to stay close to his friends—and, hell, keep open a shop when both owners couldn't help him—just because they reminded him of who he'd been at school? Was that why he was here with Malfoy, trying to find a connection where there was none?

"Fine. Whatever. But it's not like that with me. I still talk to my friends because I care about them."

"And why is that? Because a war bonded you together? Because you were in a giant castle away from home for the first time and you had to find some way to not feel lonely?"

Harry looked at Malfoy, noticing the careful way he was tracing the ring of water his glass had left on the table.

"Is that what it was like for you?"