"His father tried to kill my sister!" Ron bellowed. "His entire family works for the guy who killed Harry's parents! Lucius was probably there too, using the Cruciatus Curse for fun on his dad!" He doesn't mean it, he's only angry at Hermione. "Harry's parents are dead because of Malfoy's family!" He doesn't mean it, he's only angry at Hermione. He doesn't mean it, he's only angry at Hermione. "His parent's are dead because of You-Know-Who!" Hermione yelled. "And Malfoy is his biggest supporter! Malfoy is playing him! And Harry has to fall for the fucking act! But, of course, when Malfoy humiliates Harry, it's not going to be Harry's fault! Oh nooooo, not the perfect Chosen One. Not poor orphan Harry. Just because his parents are dead doesn't mean he can get away with fucking the son of the ones who killed them!"

Bam! Ron clutched the left side of his face. Hermione breathed heavily, her hand still raised, as if to slap him again. "Don't you dare talk about Harry like that." She uttered each word carefully and furiously. Her voice was quiet now, but it was more terrifying than when she was yelling. Harry's insides had gone cold. A heavy stone had dropped into the pit of his stomach and a cold fury spread through his body. "Well." He said quietly. Ron and Hermione looked at him. He was standing rigid, hands clenched in fists at his sides and his head was lowered, his unruly black hair hiding his expression. "If that's how you feel." He raised his head and both Ron and Hermione were shocked at the cold, unforgiving fury in his emerald green eyes.

"Get out. Go running to mummy about how your two friends aren't playing nice, I don't care. But don't you ever speak that way to me or Hermione again. Get out. And don't come back till you've had some sense knocked into you." Ron's ears gradually turned redder and redder. Harry glared at him, suppressing the tremors that wanted to wrack his body. Ron opened his mouth to say something but closed it and glared at the two stonily. "Right." He huffed. "Right then." He spun on his heels and stormed up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. The sound of a door slamming and Ron roaring "what the hell are you looking at?!" came from upstairs.

Harry unclenched his hands and slumped against the wall. He slid to the floor. Hermione rushed over to him. "He'll get over himself in the morning. He didn't mean any of it." She said, trying to sound sincere but sounding as if she was trying to convince herself as well as Harry. He wondered what Ron had said before he walked in. "He's being an absolute toerag." She continued, "And you had every right to say that to him. But in the morning he'll come to his senses. He didn't mean any of it." She repeated. Harry looked at her despairingly. "Draco's not his father." He said, desperately wanting her to believe him. Desperately wanting to believe it himself. Hermione hesitated. "He hasn't proven anything to us yet. To you yet. I fully believe he can change. But...it's going to take time Harry. No one changes overnight."
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The next morning, Ron left for The Burrow. Harry hadn't gone up to the dormitory till an hour after Hermione had gone to bed. He couldn't turn off his brain, even after he got into bed. Draco isn't his father. He couldn't be. And he was only a prat because he was forced to be. Right? Sure, it was strange that he had just suddenly asked Harry out like that, especially after three years of hatred and rivalry. But....lately, Harry wasn't sure that what he felt towards Draco was hatred. Don't misunderstand, Draco could be a right prat when he wanted to and sometimes Harry just wanted to hex some sense into him, but he didn't hate him. He was more....intrigued and drawn to him.

When Ron had woken up, Harry was still wide awake, plagued by doubts. He had pretended to be asleep and watched with a sinking heart as, behind his drapes, Ron's silhouette packed his trunk and left. Harry waited till the others had left to get up. He really didn't want to deal with the others staring. He got out of bed slowly. He considered just staying in bed. This was the second time he had lost Ron this year. And over something he wasn't even sure of. There was still a week left till school started again. Why not just stay in bed? Harry sighed. He felt heavy. His bones felt heavy. And he was so tired. But he forced himself to get up. Because, while he really ,really wanted to stay in bed, he had to get up, move on. As the Muggle's say, build a bridge and get over it.

He headed downstairs to the common room, still in his pyjamas. The people there stared at him when he walked through the entrance to the stairs. Dean and Seamus stared at him worriedly, Neville avoided his gaze and the girls, Lavender, Parvati and Hermione gazed at him almost protectively. Hermione stood up out of her chair when someone pounded on the portrait. "Is anyone in there?! I've been waiting here for fucking ages! POTTER IF YOU ARE THERE AND ARE NOT COMING OUT, I'M GOING TO BREAKFAST ALONE! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS?! I HAVE BREAKFAST AT 7:30 AM SHARP! IT'S HALF EIGHT! HURRY THE FU-" Harry shoved the portrait hole open. Draco glared at him. "It's about time!" He was about to start ranting about the time when he noticed how off Harry was. He frowned in concern. "What's wrong?" Harry shrugged and looked back to see everyone staring at them. "Let's go to breakfast. "He muttered. He climbed out the portrait hole. Draco felt worry squeeze his chest. It felt strange. He was not accustomed to being worried for anyone other than his mother.

"What happened?" He asked quietly. "Ron left this morning. We had a fight last night. " Harry explained monotonously. Draco frowned. "He said there was something wrong with me. He said, you're just using me, to humiliate me. He said, just because my parents are dead, doesn't mean I can get away with fucking the son of the people who killed my parents." Draco swore. Loudly. He pulled Harry to a stop. "Look at me." Harry looked at him and Draco saw everything in his eyes. The unspoken doubt, the confusion, the hurt, the anger. "I am not using you. I'm not planning to humiliate you. I asked you out, because I wanted to. Because I have all these feelings for you that I don't really understand right now, but that I want to understand. All I know for sure, is that I don't hate you. And that I don't just want to be friends with you." Harry stayed silent. Draco nodded and they began walking again. They had just reached the Entrance Hall, when Harry spoke, his voice hoarse. "I don't just want to be friends either."

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