Six. Confessing to oneself.

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Draco Malfoy was walking along Diagon Alley, heading to the Ministry to have a quick lunch with Pansy and Harry Potter. It had been six weeks since he was back, two weeks since he had dinner with Harry, a week since he had bumped into Hermione Granger and a week since his university had started.

The university was quite brilliant; a one-hour train ride from London, but not like Draco actually used the train. Lucky for him, there was an apparition point in the university grounds and he could be there in less than a minute from London. His teachers were amazing, all of them constantly dumping homework on their students, which Draco absolutely loved. His classmates were a bit too overenthusiastic and talkative with him, especially since he had joined in the middle of the course. However, one did not hear him complaining. After staying in Germany for two years, he was ready to fall in love with London, and England, once again. He had missed this joyous (gloomy for others) place.

Draco headed to the restaurant opposite the Ministry building, hoping his two friends (yes, Potter was a friend now) had already arrived so he would not have to sit alone and attract weird looks. He spotted them at a centre table in the restaurant and joined them.

"Good afternoon, my beloved friends," he smirked sliding into the chair next to Pansy.

"Afternoon, Draco," they greeted him glumly.

"Why so sad?"

"We had a horrific day at training," Pansy replied looking at the menu. "Who's up for some wine?"

"Pansy, it is one in the afternoon, and you have to perform spells at the training. You absolutely cannot drink wine," Draco said with a stern look. He noticed Harry looking at him weirdly.

"Merlin, you speak exactly like Hermione," Harry said looking shocked.

"Harry, shut up, I don't even know why you are obsessed with Hermione and me," he rolled his eyes.

"It is scary, that's all, and, also the fact that you fancy her," Harry grinned and Pansy started laughing like the bitch she was.

"Pansy, I can't believe you are in this too!"

"Oh, Draco, don't ruin this for us," Harry said. "All of us know you fancy Hermione."

Maybe Harry was on drugs all the time. He did look like he partied hard every weekend.

"Harry, I suggest you stop this or I am going to be having lunch alone. I do not fancy Hermione Granger, alright? I don't even know how you got that idea into your head."

"Um, that's because you smile every time we talk about her and also the way your pale face goes pink," the Boy-Who-Lived-But-Is-Going-To-Get-Killed-Now laughed.

"Did Hermione tell you something about me?" he asked after a while.

"No, why do you ask?"

"I am just asking whether she was the one who mentioned anything," he said looking into his pasta.

"Why would she? You haven't even met her after coming back," Harry said looking at him. Draco looked away on purpose and ignored Harry's question. "Have you met her, Draco?"

"Um, sorry, what did you say, Harry? I wasn't paying attention," he lied.

"Did you or did you not meet Hermione after coming back to London?"

"I bumped into her at the library last weekend," he replied. He had become a lousy liar these days. To think that he had once lied to his father, Bellatrix and Voldemort. Shame on you, Draco, he said to himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Pansy shrieked.

"Well, do you see me telling Granger about our meetings? Stop being ridiculous, guys," he said. "Please."

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