𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒

V

Act V.

Patris est pars filius.

A father is part of the son.

Draco was walking aimlessly through the corridors, his mind weighed down by the conflicting thoughts that were generated by his meeting with Dumbledore. Although, it did not make choosing easier, it did lessen a tiny shred of apprehension that he was having about possibly joining that side. At least he knew without a doubt that at least one friendly face would welcome him if he ever needed their shelter. Plus he had a startling new insight into the crazy old headmaster that he was taught to hate. He found out to his complete surprise that the man was not half bad even if he did occasionally test the bounds of sane behavior. Though he may not understand Albus Dumbledore and he prayed he never did because that would definitely mean he had gone round the bend, he still respected the wizard and could forgive him slightly for his curious quirks.

He had been walking for quite some time now and so when he looked up to notice he was standing near the seventh floor, he was quite surprised. He was turning to make his way back when suddenly he heard something. A dull noise like the scraping of a shoe. Sighing in frustration and a bit of anger, he balled his fists to the side and gripped his wand. Then nonchalantly, he stepped forward, careful to be listening for the same sound as he did so. When he heard it again, he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned casually against the stone wall beside him.

"Merlin! It's not an Invisibility and a Silencing Cloak, Potter! If you must insist on following me everywhere tonight at least silence your damnable footsteps like any half decent wizard with a semi operational brain would! I pray for your side's sake that this war does not need to be won by your stealth!" He said through clenched teeth as he continued to rub soothing circles on his forehead.

A shimmer of light later and then the figure of a violently blushing Harry Potter could be seen. Harry was mortified that he'd been caught obsessively stalking Malfoy since he finally managed a glimpse of him coming down the hallway two hours ago. But he strengthened his resolve and pushed his embarrassment and rising panic away.  "I-er-I just wanted to talk to you." He managed to stammer out, uncertain about what he was going to say but the need to say something surprisingly strong. He hadn't given up on Malfoy yet.

"Yes, of course and stalking me invisibly is so the way to do that. By all means, continue, shall I walk away now and pretend you're not there so we can continue this bizarre and idiotic Gryffindor social exercise?" 

Clenching his teeth together, Harry said tersely, "Can't you be nice for once?"

Draco scowled, even more incensed now that his time alone was intruded upon once more by the Boy Who Lived to Torture him with Stupid Questions. "Of course I can be. I am the epitome of culture and civility.' He sneered and then added, "But not to you."

Harry growled. "Why is that? Why can you be decent to everyone but me? You’ve been pretty withdrawn since sixth year and you've pretty much refrained from being 'your oh so lovely insulting self' to everyone even Hermione and Ron whom I know you've always hated a great deal. What with all that 'Die Mudblood die' and 'Pureblood traitor scum' rubbish you used to spout when we were younger. So why is that when it comes to me, it’s still 'piss off, Scarhead?' Why can't we be friends? Or at least non-threatening acquaintances?"

Draco rolled his eyes, already bored with the conversation. "I told you this already and I see no reason to repeat myself. So if you would kindly, as you so eloquently put it, 'Piss off, Scarhead!' I will go merrily on my way to plot misdeeds and nefarious undertakings since apparently your already swollen head has inflated to even more epic proportions because of my non-hating ways leading you to believe that you are more than just the number two-thousand three-hundred thirty-third person I can't stand."