𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒

Chapter 5

Harry hid behind the bleachers of the Quidditch field keeping an eye the blonde teen as he stood just inside the pitch. Draco was gazing skywards with a wistful look upon his face as his fellow team mates practiced above him in the clouds.

Harry had been surreptitiously watching his rival? - Former rival? He didn't even know what to call him anymore; shadowing the blonde for the past two weeks since the incident in Transfiguration class. He had heard though the grapevine that Malfoy's arm had some strange curse on it that wouldn't allow it to be healed magically, although nobody seemed to know who had cursed him in such a way or why.

Ron had figured that the ferret, as he was still wont to call him, deserved that and more, but Harry couldn't help but be more than a little bit curious about it and perhaps, somewhat sympathetic. Not to mention that Malfoy had not once hexed, cursed, been snide or nasty to anyone.

Even when Ron had teased him, calling him 'wittle Dwaco' and strongly suggesting that he needed a training wand because of his lack of control that day, the blonde teen had not responded. Instead he had calmly walked on by the laughing group that Ron was with, his head high, ignoring everyone. This was so completely out of character for the Slytherin, that Harry was utterly intrigued by the whole thing. Something was definitely going on and he intended to find out.

If truth be told, Harry found himself missing the war of words that they had been engaging in since first year. Now, Malfoy basically just ignored everyone, including some in his own house and could often been seen sitting near the end of the Slytherin table by himself, his nose in a book, rather than at his former spot in the center of the group trying to garner attention. He was beginning to remind Harry of Hermione in a strange sort of way.

Blaise seemed to have taken over the spot as head of the Slytherin gang and it was now him that tried to cross words with the Gryffindors, although his taunts didn't have near the sharp edge as Draco's.

As Harry continued to watch the blonde that was staring wistfully into the sky, a strange feeling took hold of him. Malfoy seemed so forlorn and alone, not unlike himself, that The-Boy-Who-Lived stepped forward and walked over to stand beside the Slytherin.

His friends would probably think him mad, he even thought so too at times. Why would he want to start a conversation with Malfoy? He was nothing but a spoiled tosser with a superiority complex, so why did he feel like he wanted to be close to him? And why did it bother him so much that Draco ignored him now? He should be jumping for joy that the Slytherin had decided to leave him alone, but instead he felt...a bit lost, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself now that he didn't have the emotional outlet that Draco had always provided.

Hermione had outright told him that she thought he was becoming overly obsessive about his need to find out about the blonde teen. Since then he had tried to be a bit sneakier so his two friends wouldn't question him about it anymore.

After reflecting on the years he and Malfoy had spent at each others throats he came to the realization that he never really hated the blonde. Harry had certainly hated the nasty things he said and did; how he had acted so pompous and self important, but he didn't hate the boy himself.

Draco glanced sideways at the dark-haired boy as he came up and stood beside him. He felt a bit nervous with Potter being around him. Ever since the green-eyed teen had taken ahold of him in McGonagall's class, he couldn't get the image of those beautiful, intense eyes out of his mind and the feeling of comfort he had gained by looking into them.

"Potter," Draco drawled as a means of acknowledgement, hiding his discomfort.

"Malfoy," Harry returned. An uncomfortable silence descended for a moment before Harry tried to alleviate it. "Your team looks pretty good," he stated looking upwards at the group above them.