Harry Potter and the Slytherin Truth: Year One

Chapter 19

Thoughts: ‘Blah. Blah. Blah.”
Flashback: Blah. Blah. Blah. ( [END]FLASHBACK before/after them)
Hedwig: “Blah. Blah. Blah.”
Parseltongue: {Blah. Blah. Blah.}
Letters/Articles/Writing: Blah. Blah. Blah. 

Chapter 19

Harry wakes up to yelling. Actually, screeching is a better word to describe the atrocious sound coming out of Draco’s mouth. Harry doesn’t even think about throwing his pillow at his best friend, honestly. It just… happens. Anyway, a pillow is thrown, an indignant screech is given, and Harry decides to roll over and bundle his blankets over his head.

Draco scoffs loudly. “You know that won’t stop me. It’s Christmas Day, Harry. Get your butt out of bed; We have presents to open!” Draco takes hold of Harry’s blanket and pulls, dragging Harry across the bed and onto the floor. Harry pops up into a sitting position, still holding onto his end of the blanket and fixing Draco with an unimpressed glare. Draco merely raises one of his perfect eyebrows at his disgruntled friend.

“Well, since you’re already up, I suggest you come down for breakfast.” Draco tugs on the blanket and it is yanked out of Harry’s tired grasp. The dark haired boy groans and falls onto his back, closing his eyes once more as he hears Draco leave the room. 

“Well, since you’re up already…” Harry mocks in a bad imitation of Draco’s voice. He heaves himself into a sitting position, rubbing his tired eyes and looking around the blurry room. Getting to his feet, he paws at the nightstand for his glasses, his hand finally landing on them and, unfortunately, knocking them to the floor. Harry sighs, a full body motion that makes his shoulders sag and his head fall back. After bending down to retrieve them, Harry slides them onto his face, bringing the room into focus.

Taking another moment to lament on being up at such an early hour, he vaguely hears Draco’s voice in his head telling him, ‘It’s not early, Potter. It’s eight in the morning.’, he pulls on a sweater and stumbles to the door.

Exiting the room, Harry trudges into the main dining room, hearing the dull chatter of the Malfoy family at the table. 

“Harry! Come, sit and eat.” Narcissa greets him happily, pointing to the empty seat next to Draco. Harry, being barely awake, answers with a nod and a smile. He finds that words are close to impossible until about an hour after he wakes up. Which, may or may not be a good thing when he thinks about it. A part of him, the part he likes to call “Responsible Harry”, says ‘I’ll work on it.’, while another part, “Rebel Harry”, contradicts by saying ‘No, no you really won’t’. Don’t judge, okay? Harry has had a rough childhood. He’s entitled to his issues. 

Harry sits at the table, glaring evilly at Draco, obviously still peeved at being woken up. Draco, in return, smacks the back of Harry’s head lightly. Harry smacks Draco’s arm, successfully starting a slap fight with his best friend. What can they say, maturity is their passion. 

“Boys.” Lucius warns, stopping them both in their tracks, mid-slap. 

Harry and Draco, both thoroughly chastised, turn their attentions to the food on their plates. It is then that Harry realizes that Severus is also at the table. As he glances toward his head-of-house, he sees that his lips are quirked into a smile. Although, he could be imagining it, because the expression is gone a mere moment later. 

To Harry and Draco, the meal drags on for what feels like an eternity, the two boys buzzing with restless energy at the thought of opening their Christmas gifts. But finally, the three adults finish their meals and conversations, prompting Harry and Draco to spring from their chairs and run into the next room as soon as the last plate is cleared from the table. ‘Took them long enough. Although, they were probably just torturing us, watching us waste away slowly.’ Harry laughs at himself, but is unable to dismiss the thought completely. He is a Slytherin after all, and it helps to always be suspicious, no matter how ludicrous the idea may seem.