The Perks of Befriending a Malfoy

Chapter Sixteen

"So you've befriended a Malfoy."

Harry peered at Hermione over the edge of his glass of juice, his eyebrows raised. Tonight was the first time that Harry had spoken to her today, because Ron had Quidditch practice and he was more focused on that. She kept fidgeting, trying to keep her gaze on anything but Harry.

"Just Draco," she said, staring at her lap. "Only Draco Malfoy."

"I think I got that far," Harry teased. "But I honestly didn't expect you two to become . . . friends. That sounds so odd, doesn't it ― ?"

"Yes, Harry, it's all very odd," she said. "I get it."

He placed his glass down on the table and narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you all right?"

"All right? All right?" She crossed her arms across the table and slammed her head into them. "No, I'm not all right, Harry. I'm sorry, but I'm just not. And it's not you, trust me. . . . Well, actually, it kind of is you. You weren't ―"

"Weren't what?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "You weren't supposed to know we were friends."

"So you thought that hiding your friendship from me was a good idea?"

"Harry, I'm sorry, it's not that," she said. "It's just . . . I didn't know how you'd react, with you two being the way you are and all. . . ."

"I'm not saying I'm happy about it," he said, "but I'm not exactly in a position to tell you who to be friends with, am I? . . . Is Ron to know about this?"

"No," she said, hastily. "The less people, the better."

He smirked at her. "You're embarrassed to be friends with Malfoy, aren't you?"

She shook her head, but blushed. "No, no . . . I just don't want people to overreact. I don't think it's that big of a deal, but you never know how other people will react with all that House rivalry everywhere. I know for a fact Pansy Parkinson wouldn't be too pleased to hear it. She already thinks we're a bit too friendly . . . not like that, of course!" she added quickly, blushing harder.

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't suspect you were like that, Hermione. It's funny, Malfoy actually jumped to the same conclusion last night ―"

"He what?" she hissed, leaning over the table.

"I was talking to Malfoy last night on the walk," he explained. "I was talking to him about you two. I saw you two having a conversation, in case you didn't notice. Well, I was surprised that you two were being so civil, to say the least, so I asked him about it. He immediately jumped to the conclusion that I was accusing him of liking you in a more-than-friendly manner."

As he took another sip of his juice, Hermione could feel her palms getting sweaty and her face getting hot.

"So you don't ― you don't actually believe that, do you?"

He shook his head. "Hermione, I'm not an idiot."

"Good," she said breathlessly, relieved by his reply.

He sat for a moment in silence and took another drink, and then turned to Hermione again.

"So how'd you do it, then?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Make friends with him. Last time I checked you weren't very high up on his desirable females list. And that's no insult to you, that's just Malfoy."

She thought about it for a few moments. It really was a strange thing to think about. They had both changed so much towards each other. He no longer hated her for what she couldn't change. She no longer hated him for hating her. But, it wasn't like they were both suddenly incredibly civil towards each others' respective Houses. There was still that matter of House rivalry, regardless of who were friends between the Houses. It wasn't like their friendship would unite everyone with all of that ingrained tension and animosity.