Sometimes Bad is Good

Chapter Eleven.

"He is too kind," said the Weasley patriarch sadly, his weathered face showing nothing but pain. "It's almost as if he forgives any wrong doings against himself, but cannot let go of the pain of others."

"Either that or he hides his own pain too well," murmured a raggedly handsome Weasley, the only one of the lot that Draco could ever consider at least half handsome. "Did you see his face that time when the twins gave that whale of a kid one of their pranks? He looked like he was about to die he was so scared."

Potter... Scared? He thought dazedly, trying to recall a time where Harry Potter had even been a teensy bit afraid of something. There was nothing. Not even that time in first year when they ventured into the Forbidden Forest and that mysterious figure began to stalk them was Potter scared. In pain from his scar, yes. But not afraid.

Draco witnessed another surreptitious exchange of glances, this time between his parents and the other adults, and only barely managed to catch Blaise' himself. It was almost as if they were invisible to the Weasley's and co, a good thing mind. Blaise allowed his head to tilt in the direction of Potter's room ever so slightly, and flicked his dark eyes towards the clutch of Gryffindor's. Draco nodded back.

"But Harry's never been afraid of anything," said the Hufflepuff werewolf ignorantly, unaware of the dark looks being sent his way from the eldest Weasley's. "Not even when meeting that Hippogriff, and that beast was frightening."

Draco happened to agree on that, though he was far more equipped to battle that brute now. Bloody chicken couldn't survive one round with him now. If only the thing were around.

"There have been times where I thought he was afraid, but you're right. He's hardly afraid when his life is at stake. He only worries about others and never himself," said Granger reluctantly, though she herself seemed to be throwing the Hufflepuff werewolf daggers. "I think that that's the reason why he took down that Basilisk in the Chamber, he was afraid for the lives of others and not his own. Ginny was his primary concern."

"Well, he was bitten, 'Mione, I doubt he even thought he'd survive long enough to destroy the -" the Weasel broke off suddenly, blinking at the silently listening Slytherins as if just realizing that they were there. That didn't stop Draco's father from being glared at though. "I think it's time for bed actually. It seems that the walls have ears down here."

Granger paled significantly, an unbecoming look on her tan skin, as she noticed them. She stood from her spot on one of the love-seats and hurried to clutch at the Weasel's arm. "I think you're right, Ron, it's time for bed," she said quickly, pulling the gangly red haired teen from his seat. "Come on, it's getting late."

The Weasel stood willingly, however much he looked like he wanted to stay and fight, and was glaring over at the silent and still vampires fiercely. The others followed quickly and quietly, allowing for small glares to be aimed at the silent group as they passed. Most looked embarrassed and alarmed at having been heard talking about Potter, the ex-professor and eldest Weasley being the most alarmed. Draco surmised that they were worried, and for good reason.

He just might let slip to Potter that he was being talked about.

It was a small surprise when Molly Weasley pulled her husband to a stop in front of Draco's parents, a small and tentative smile set timidly on her lips. Draco eyed them both warily and with mild disdain, confused as to what the red haired woman was doing. The Weasley matriarch stood silent for a moment, just looking at them with those warm brown eyes as her husband stood stiffly by her side. Just when Lucius was about to snap, she spoke. "Good night," she said softly, inclining her head in a small nod.

Draco could see the surprise on his parents faces, even though no one else could, and was severely surprised himself when his mother actually nodded back, a small and true smile on her regal face. It was the most positive emotion she'd ever showed towards the Weasley's. "Good night," she replied softly. Lucius nodded back, his cold grey eyes staring into the Weasley's brown and blue ones.