Is It Ever Too Late To Say Sorry {DRARRY}

Astronomy tower

[Draco]

  Draco washed and dried his face, applied a generous amount of hair gel, and went to select his outfit. The eighth years were allowed to wear their own clothes if they liked to, and unlike Potter, Draco liked to dress classy. He also had to wake up earlier, because as opposed to a certain messy haired boy, he couldn't pull of the Freshly-out-of-bed look.

Walking along the corridors, Draco got some hostile looks from a group of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, but he kept his head up.

Draco had memorized his schedule before the first day of school even ended. Today's first lesson was Defense Against the Dark Arts, so he automatically walked to the North tower.

Draco didn't pay attention to the class since he felt like he had no defense left against the Dark Arts. He had used dark magic for countless times, so how would any of those superficial lessons help him in any way?

He copied down a few sentences that his ears would grab here and there, composing notes that were poorly organized but would still help him pass the subject.

    When Draco lifted his gaze form the notes he made to return to his daydream, a paper bird flew to his desk. He unfolded it as the memory from third year resurfaced.

   I know what you're doing. Stop. It won't work.  Astronomy tower, 8 30 pm

     Draco's heart hammered against his chest. Unmistakably, the message was from Harry. What exactly did he know about? Draco had too much secrets he kept for himself, and Harry could be talking about any of them, but somehow Draco had a bad feeling about this.
    He wished he could read people's minds. It was exasperating to guess, and he couldn't afford going, not after all the effort he had put to avoid Harry.

     Still, Draco couldn't stop himself from wondering if Harry was right.
     Maybe this really won't work.
     Maybe he just had to get it off his chest for once, and after the sharp pain of being rejected settled in his heart, he would get better.

     
[Harry]

    Harry stood there, waiting, a cold breeze brushing against his face.

For once, he arrived early. It was only 8:27.
Harry waited three minutes.
Weird, Malfoy's never late.

Another ten minutes went by.

Every second that passed by seemed like a year. It was as if there was a clock ticking in Harry, and every tick was like a stab in his heart.

    When he was almost certain Malfoy wouldn't come, he turned towards the stairs. He was halfway through them when someone else's footsteps echoed in the staircase.

    They both stopped walking at the same time. Then, Malfoy spoke:
    "Listen up Potter, if you're going to lecture me about how we should be friends, save your breath."