“Not the whole truth. I told him that it was a safety thing. He assumed it was about You- Know-oops-Voldemort. And then he and I told the other boys in the dorm that it was a spacing thing…you know, try not to cramp everyone in. I figured that they might believe it more if it came from people other than just me.”
“No one else really noticed you were gone from the Tower,” Hermione explained, “Because you still eat with us and attend the same classes and still sit in the Common Room. It’s not like you’re not in Gryffindor anymore—they would have noticed that—you just have different sleeping arrangements.”
Draco seemed lost in thought during dinner that night, pondering a thought that had come into his head earlier that day. It was rather strange, but after a week of having Harry around almost constantly, from sun up to sun down, he almost…well…missed having Harry around. And there was a Hogsmead day this weekend. Adding these two facts together, his mind had come up with the strangest idea during History of Magic. Now, Draco was used to the strange places that one’s mind wandered during History of Magic, but this was a different thing all together. Why not ask Harry to go to Hogsmead with him? Or at least, to meet him at Hogsmead for a little while. Maybe get a drink or something. There were private rooms at the Three Broomsticks, so no one need know that they were meeting each other. And it wasn’t like he was asking Harry on a date or anything…Or was he?
That was the problem. Because if he wasn’t then there was no issue, it was just two people getting together for a few Butterbeers and company. But if he was, then that would mean something entirely different…something that Draco wasn’t quite ready for. He would admit that Harry wasn’t the bane of his existence anymore. He would admit that he could enjoy Harry’s company. Heck, he could even admit that he liked Harry…but he was not ready to actually do anything about it.
And so that was the dilemma, wasn’t it? Either say nothing and go about whatever else he would be doing this Saturday. Or, say something and deal with what it might bring. Well…he still had a few days to think about it.
The number of days dwindled as Monday turned into Tuesday and Wednesday followed. Yet Draco was no closer to figuring out his dilemma than he had been on Monday. He had even considered writing to his father about it, it had gotten that annoying, but writing it down would somehow make the issue more real. If he never wrote it down and the weekend came and went, then he could just concentrate on forgetting that the thought ever occurred. But if he wrote it down it became more concrete than a simple thought that occurred during History of Magic. So instead he tried to imagine what his father would say. If really wasn’t hard at all. His father would give him this look and tell him that he was a Malfoy and Malfoys did what they wanted to and that he should get rid of these insecure feelings. If he wanted Harry’s company he should request it and that was that. It shouldn’t matter what it might look like if someone actually saw them. Really, think rationally Draco. It all comes down to a matter of pride. Some Gryffindors are allowed to hang around him and yet you, a Malfoy, cannot? You have as much right to be around him now as they do, considering that you no longer hate each other and could even be considered friends. Morgan, you are going to spend the rest of your life around him so what is making you inferior to them?
Gryffindors may have their courage when they need it, but for a Slytherin it is a matter of pride.
Harry had just finished all his homework for Friday. Of course, he couldn’t really use any of his free time at this time of night, but it was still free time and that was a good thing. Yet he felt…edgy somehow. Content that there was no more homework, but edgy all the same…almost as if there was something he should be concerned about. And he wasn’t concerned about anything right now. So why was he feeling this tense?
The shower turned off and in the change of noise Harry’s mind shifted to Draco.
The blond left the bathroom silently, the look on his face almost contemplative. That, Harry’s mind crowed triumphantly, is where those feelings came from! But what would Draco have to be nervous about?
“Hey, Draco?”
Draco looked over at him from his side of the room.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
Well, that didn’t get me anywhere, Harry thought.
“Harry.”
“What?” Harry looked over at Draco. The blond wasn’t looking at him.
“You know this is a Hogsmeade weekend right?”
“It is?” Harry blinked. Strange that Ron or Hermione hadn’t said anything about it.
“Yes.”
Silence prevailed for a few minutes before Draco calmly asked. “Would you like to do something with me on Saturday?”
Harry blinked, surprised. Where had that come from? Not that he was going to turn down an offer like that from Draco.
“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”
“There are some private rooms at the Three Broomsticks. I’ll get one of them.”
“Sounds great.”
Harry eagerly dug into his eggs. It was a Friday morning, tomorrow was Saturday, and that Saturday was a Hogsmeade day. Add to that the…well, anticipation of Draco’s proposition the day before, and he was in a rather good mood this Friday morning, even with upcoming classes. The other Gryffindors were in good spirits as well. Ron was working excitedly at something (Harry would have to ask him what was going on later), and Hermione was deeply ensconced in a new book about the psychological mindset of wizards in the 16th century. Harry had scheduled a DA meeting for next Thursday, so the other DA members were already looking forward to it. And there was leftover raspberry pie from last night’s desert for breakfast, a common favourite of every House in Hogwarts, so this was a decidedly good Friday.
Over on the Slytherin side of the Great Hall, Draco was also feeling the Friday spirit (even though raspberry pie was not his favourite form of pie), but he wasn’t grinning like an idiot as the Gryffindors on the other side of the room were. A smile—no smirk—did appear briefly on his features when a familiar messenger bird dropped a letter next to his plate. His name was written in plain black ink on the envelope in a script he knew well. Quickly, though not outwardly eagerly, he opened the letter.
His father’s note was short…something about telling his mother about the Christmas holidays? Draco quickly stood from the table and left, ducking into the nearest alcove in the hallway. He waited as the spell that hid the true letter disappeared as it sensed he was alone.
A newspaper clipping fell out of the letter.
Draco,
I thought you would have certain interest in this. Fudge has decided to remove this article and associated pictures from the Prophet and will not allow it to be printed. You may want to share it with Potter as well.
Take care,
Lucius Malfoy
Draco’s eyes fell to the article’s words.
Attack on Muggle London?
By Rita Skeeter
Three days after the Christmas holiday a brutal attack on a muggle hotel shook the heart of Muggle London. The building itself collapsed in an explosion, killing 134 muggles and wounding 113 more. The muggles believe it to be the work of terrorists, but this reporter wonders otherwise. Several of the recovered bodies seemed to have died before the collapse of the building, and there is evidence that the wounds inflicted upon them were caused by magical means. The Ministry of Magic refuses to confirm or refute this for the public and that causes this reporter to wonder if the Ministry is trying to cover up a darker purpose for this slaughter of innocent life. This reporter remembers all too well the Ministry’s continued secrecy around the resurgence of You-Know-Who one year ago, when it is clear in hindsight that they were simply not willing to see where known incidents indicated. This reporter can only guess what the Ministry is hiding now by not revealing if this truly was a slaughter of muggles by dark wizards and can only hope that the Ministry will choose to reveal the needed information to the wizarding public For pictures turn to page three.
Draco quickly wrote a reply to his father and headed for the owlery. From there he would head for the dungeons. Harry would have to stop back at their rooms before going to class. He would tell him then.
Chapter 24: Bubble, Bubble, Toil, and Trouble
Harry finished reading through the article with a scowl. “And Fudge is hiding this?”
“Yes.”
“Why that—” Harry couldn’t even begin to think of a word that described what he felt towards the current Minister of Magic.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “So what are we going to do about it?”
Harry looked at Draco in surprise. “What?”
Draco sighed as if he were trying to explain something to a little child. “What are you, or rather we, going to do about this?”
“I don’t know.” Harry muttered. Bloody hell, it was too early in the morning to be dealing with Fudge’s stupidity.
Draco’s smile was predatory. “We get it printed, Harry. That is what we do.”
Harry blinked. “How would we do that?”
“That’s your job. Get it printed somewhere, anywhere. Like you did last year.”
Draco’s plan began to dawn on Harry. “Can your dad keep getting articles that Fudge doesn’t want printed?”
