Dateless ✓

Chapter 4: The Owlery

Green eyes narrowed with scepticism, mistrustful of any kindness that the other would pretend to give.

"Asshole," He snapped, swallowing so he wouldn't scream when he tried to move. Then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, he accidentally placed his hand in bird poop. "Kill me," He whispered solemnly, feeling disgusted by the wet stuff smeared over his palm.

At this point Malfoy couldn't prevent himself from letting a giggle out, smiling gleefully. As the moonlight shined through the open windows, lighting up the aristocratic features, he looked a bit surreal. An ethereal beauty that could make even a Veela look like riff-raff.

"Kill you? No thanks, I wouldn't want to try after knowing what happened to the Dark Lord," Draco mused, his eyes shimmering with amusement.

"Right," He bristled.

"You are the boy-who-lived after all. Not the best candidate for future murderers to pick."

"Can you let Voldemort know that?"

Draco's previously mean smile softened, "Thankfully he's gone, because I don't think he would have listened to me."

Gone from everyone's mind except Harry's and Dumbledore's, he wished to reply with certain callousness, but not even Malfoy deserved sleepless nights from finding out that Voldemort never died.

In a rare show of kindness Malfoy held out his hand for Harry to grab, but his eyes were focused on him, cautiously observing his movement so he wouldn't use the dirty hand. Harry almost laughed, wondering if he should be mischievous and attack Malfoy with his hand as payback, but he settled for a small smile as he was hauled back up on his feet.

Gritting his teeth, "That better not still be painful when I'm going to dance," Harry moaned loudly as the piercing pain shot through his back.

Malfoy grabbed his wrist firmly and pointed his wand at the mess, "Scourgify!" The mess disappeared as if it was never there. Harry was slightly astounded that Draco would do it for him. "I bet your dance partner will thank me if you're unable to dance."

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you during the dance lesson. You kept stepping on every girl's foot as if you were a clumsy elephant."

He couldn't deny that dancing wasn't one of his strong points.

"Oh you were looking at me? Couldn't keep your eyes off?" It was said a bit teasingly, flirty one could even say, as Harry added a smirk in an uncanny mood of friendliness.

It took Malfoy by surprise, just like Harry was surprised by the sight of pale cheeks being coated with a fiery blush. Blazing red with embarrassment as if Malfoy had gotten caught. He was equally stunned when Malfoy seemed so lost for words, that he didn't instantly refute the statement. Awkwardly Harry changed the topic, not willing to let whatever was happening between them continue.

"I was just joking... Anyway, who's your date?"

"Pansy."

"Wow that sucks," Harry scrunched his nose in disgust. Not because he disliked Pansy, but because he knew how Malfoy felt about her.

It was no secret that Pansy had set her eyes on the pureblood's vast fortune, already wanting Draco as her future husband. In return, Malfoy had viciously complained of how the girl annoyed him. Harry had overheard those complaints in hallways, classrooms, and practically everywhere else where Malfoy walked. Her presence was always littered with poor attempts of seduction, detested by Draco, so he knew Malfoy wasn't too happy with her as his date. Not as happy as Pansy at least.