Now before this chapter, I would like to thank ForYouMyWolfMoon and kyee18sha for their wonderful votes and comments! Thank you to everyone for all the support for this story!
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Harry was surprisingly elated as he walked toward the Great Hall.
He sat down next to Ron, and said a peppy "Hello!"
Ron stopped chewing and looked at him strangely.
"Hullo to you, too."
Harry felt embarrassed at how he must look. Too peppy, likely dopey smile on his face...
He felt as if he had known Draco for his whole life.
It was then he had a sudden insight.
He has known Draco his whole life. A majority of it, actually.
He's known him just as long as Ron and Hermione.
The thought amused Harry.
It's a wonder they only started talking civilly now.
He grabbed some brisket and started to tuck in.
I wonder where Draco's eating, should I ask him to sit with me?...Would he want to?...Is is too early in the truce?...Where is he?...
Harry looked around the Great Hall. He didn't see any sign of the sarcastic blonde.
He remembered that he left him in the hallway. Maybe he was still there.
Should I go and get him? He wondered.
He tried a few more bites of his food.
Stop worrying. You were paranoid last time and you caught...
A certain Hufflepuff was missing from the table, too.
Harry tried to convince himself to keep eating, but in the end he bid a hasty goodbye to Ron and went off to find his Draco.
Not that he cared that much or anything.
It was just a hero-martyr-habit.
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"I know why you're making that face," Smith drawled, " I know you tried to Obliviate me."
Perhaps the spell had not worked as well as Draco had hoped.
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
Wow Draco, he snarked to himself, way to go cliché.
Smith thought so as well.
"Don't act stupid, filth," Smith snarled, " I may not remember everything, but I remember enough. You've turned the Chosen One against us, Death Eater!"
Draco thought he heard a clatter of armor, but ignored it for he was still reeling from the confirmation of what he had already suspected was true.
The Chosen One had helped him.
Harry had helped him.
Was that the only reason he had wanted a truce? Because he saw Smith? Because he saw how Draco barely protected himself? Because he saw him take the coward's way out? Because he pitied him?
Harry wouldn't do that.
How do you know that, he questioned himself.
How much do you really know about one Harry Potter?
Sure, they knew each other for seven years and counting, but what does that have to say for anything?
Smith goaded him.
"You're nothing but a snivelling Daddy's boy, a coward. Harry Potter probably helped you because he pitied you. I can see why. Nothing but a poor scumbag that couldn't disobey his daddy and now has nothing to his name. What you going to do, Malfoy? Tell your father about this?"
Draco lashed out. He lashed out not because of these words, but because of all the words he had endured, all of them he brushed off but was increasingly tired of, of words he had heard and ones still to be spat at him.
He socked Smith in the jaw, landing with a solid crack.
Draco was oddly proud of himself for throwing the first punch between them.None of his other fights with Smith had gotten physical yet.
But it was really Smith's fault really for standing so close and going so far.
Not to mention he was surprised he had went so...Muggle.
And now that he thinks about it... Hermione.
Smith held his jaw, surprised he had gotten such a Muggle and brazen reaction from the supposed 'coward'.
"Ohh, looks like you finally grew a pair. But you're out of your league, scum." Smith spat out some blood that made Draco wonder exactly how hard he could throw a punch.
Smith lunged for him and they both rolled to the ground.
A scuffle ensued in which Draco landed a few more punches to Smith's face, and he received some in return, and was also kneed where it is unfair to knee when fighting with a guy.
"Expelliarmus!"
After a few minutes of fighting, they were blasted apart.
They both quickly got to their feet, and turned to the direction of the one who cast it, which appeared to be a suit of armor.
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Harry had stumbled upon them when Smith had accused Draco of turning him to the Dark Side. There wasn't even a Dark Side anymore!
Nevertheless, Harry jumped behind a nearby suit of armor to continue to listen to them.
He peeked out from behind it after he had heard a loud crack, and saw Smith lunge at Draco.
He watched as they rolled around on the floor, trading punches. Harry wasn't sure when he should interfere.
Even if he was Draco's friend, he had to let him fight his own battles.
They rolled around longer, and didn't look like they were going to stop soon.
Harry saw Smith's face get coated with blood, whether it was his or Draco's he had no idea.
He felt guilty as they rolled around more, he came here to investigate and he wasn't doing anything.
Like with the last time. So everything's going to be fine.
But you did interfere last time!
Yeah...not really...
Really?
Yea... Just kinda sorta
Just go! A Mini Hermione screamed in his head.
He questioned what exactly a mini-Hermione is doing loitering in his head, but choose to head its instruction, Hermione usually knows best after all, and blasted the two apart with a spell he knew well.
"Expelliarmus!"
The two immediately were shoved away from each other, as if a invisible wall appeared between them, and got knocked off their feet.
Harry quickly scooted behind the suit again after he cast the spell.
He heard them scuffle to their feet and turn in his direction.
Why aren't they saying anything?, he thought.
Right, he realized, laughing at his own confusion.
The suit.
He casually stepped out from behind it, optimistically hoping they would ignore him, which was a long shot, considering his luck.
His luck seemed to agree.
"Well, look who we have here. Our own Saviour himself. Now it's quite the party,wouldn't you think?" Smith said, falsely cheerful.
"Whatever." Harry snorted. He was tired enough of Draco and Smith. Was this what McGonagall felt like when she had to deal with him and his former rival when they were younger?
He nodded for Draco to come with him and turned around. Draco must have glared at Smith when he left, because Smith called out
"I would still be careful, scum. Just because you have your Chosen Babysitter now, doesn't mean you'll have him forever."
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When Draco got to the Great Hall, he immediately grabbed a green apple, and some black licorice this time too, and headed carefully toward his room.
He knew he had left Harry surprised, but he didn't really want to talk to him, or anyone right now.
The looks Smith gave him when Harry came, the whole thing enforced the fact that Harry pitied him.
Draco knows that his life deserves pity, he pitied himself sometimes.
But it wasn't what he wanted.
He wanted understanding.
Someone who gets it, but doesn't let him mope all the time.
And for a short while,
It seemed like Harry was like that.
But of course he wasn't.
Of course.
He should really get used to being thrown away, or hurt, or pitied, because it's basically his whole life.
He bit into his licorice, then promptly spat it out.
He hated licorice.
The idea that Harry wanted to be friends with him out of pity made him sick to his stomach. He doesn't need any more pity.
Stop it, he tried to tell himself, don't let Smith make you doubt yourself.
Then he wins.
Draco tried to munch on his apple, but ended up spitting it out too.
You are a Malfoy, a cold-edged voice said in his head, squashing any of the individual that was known as Draco momentarily.
I am a Malfoy, he repeated numbly.
I am a Malfoy.