Chapter Seven

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Hi, Everyone. It's been over a month since my last post. I'm embarrassed to say it was because I was thinking of quitting the story. It's a bad habit of mine these days; never finishing any story I start and one that needs to be broken. So after about two or three weeks I checked my wattpad account and saw some of the comments from people who were actually looking forward to reading the next chapter and I thought "I know I'm not the best writer out there but I can't disappoint all these people who seem to actually like my take on Drarry" So I picked up my pen and notebook but: Enter writer's block. I'm sure some of you know how frustrating that feels but as you can see, I overcame it and I think I came up with a chapter that you guys will actually like. Read on to find out why! {P.S. I totally appreciate everyone who has stuck with this story, voted, shared and added to their reading lists. I'm filled with so much emotion :')}

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Chapter Seven

It was a new thing for Draco: this acceptance of his feelings for Harry. Usually, in the past, whenever he'd had a positive thought towards Potter, he'd always suppressed it under an avalanche of denial. As he watched the end of the Quidditch match through a pair of powerful binoculars, looking out through one of the seventh floor windows that faced the Quidditch pitch in the distance, his feelings were that of pride. It wasn't pride in his House team's performance - they'd lost the match. It was pride in Harry - that Harry's choice of players as his first time as his teams Quidditch captain had won the match. Draco didn't care about how disloyal to his house he was being by having these thoughts. No one would know. He'd watched as Harry had put together that team, he'd listened as Harry was insulted because of his choices for the team, he'd watched as Harry had stuck by his decisions ignoring the whispers.  

Draco'd always admired Harry's performance on the Quidditch field (though he'd rather have his teeth pulled out than admit that to anyone he knew freely). He admired Potter's determination and his skill on a broomstick. Nothing deterred that boy from winning a game not even nearly dying. Of course this admiration was one of the many things Draco'd hidden beneath a scornful exterior. 

The task of getting Harry's positive attention was proving much harder than Draco had originally thought. The past two weeks probably had Potter thinking he belonged in a nut-house because his attitude when they were alone and when they were among company was drastically different. In the classroom or during a chance meeting in the corridors, Draco was the epitome of civility but once they were among people Draco was back to his rude sneering self. Draco could see the confusion behind the suspicion in Harry's eyes sometimes when he looked at him. 

Draco watched through the binoculars as Harry was surrounded mid-air by his team mates and hugged within an inch of his life. The stands were quickly emptying now that the match was over and soon everyone would be back at the castle. He'd told Urquhart,the new Slytherin captain, he was ill and to play Harper in his stead. It would look odd if he were caught so far away from the Slytherin Dungeons looking the picture of perfect health. Draco stepped away from the window and walked a short distance down the corridor, stopped in front of a wall and tapped it twice with his wand. The wall slid aside to reveal a narrow passage way that led directly to the corridor outside the Slytherin Common Room.  

Draco walked in, the wall sliding back into place behind him.

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Harry walked down the corridor, up a set of stairs and then down another corridor. He was heading to the Astronomy tower. No one should be up there today since it was a weekend and besides no one did anything so mundane as schoolwork on the day of a Quidditch match. He was still buzzed from the excitement of the match and celebration party and he wanted to be alone to wind down, replay the game in his mind a few times, maybe even pen a note to Sirius about it. Harry thought about Sirius often. It was nice to have his family, to know what it might have been like to have a real dad, to have someone to correspond with from school. 

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