𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Conversation

Harry had come to the Infirmary for several nights now. Nothing much was said, as Harry didn't know what to talk about, so they mostly sat in a companionable (or often times ominous) silence. He didn't really know why he kept coming, or even the reason behind it. It was true that he didn't feel as guilty as he had before, but something, something, still remained unsaid and unsettled.

It was not as though Harry Potter was expecting to become friends, or even wishing to become friends, with the famed snake of Slytherin. The two of them lived in two separate worlds, and if once, long ago, they might have managed to become friends, that time was long dead...it was long over.

Harry did not know whether he regretted this or not. He didn't, in reality, like to be enemies with anyone.

Nights had passed, and the full moon came and gone...it was now waning in its cycle, and Harry often times found himself looking up bleary-eyed at the stars at two or perhaps three in the morning, when finally, half dead from lack of sleep, he could crawl back to his warm bed in Gryffindor Tower.

It had been perhaps a week since these nightly escapades had begun, and rather astonished that he had willingly spent seven days with the snake, Harry decided that he should mark this anniversary with...something special.

"So, what do you do all day?" The raven-haired boy ventured nervously as he found himself fingering the fabric on his cloak in anxiety. What would Malfoy say? Would he be a prat and shove off his attempts to be civil? The green-eyed boy was disturbed, and tried to remain calm in the chair as he had for the past week.

Startled, Draco turned his head toward the voice. "Excuse me?" was his automatic response. Yet in reality, Draco had secretly been wondering when his visitor would talk or if they were just going to sit in silence forever. It wasn't as if he cared but he hated this feeling of limbo—being both nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

Things had to be one way or the other; never both. He could neither have a friend who was an enemy or an enemy that was a friend. It was just not in his character.

"What do you do all day? I mean no offence of course, but there isn't much you can do stuck in an Infirmary bed all day, you know," his intruder continued hesitantly.

Draco sat in thought for a moment.

What did he do all day? In reality, nothing. After all, what could he do? Sleeping grew dull, but nearly as soon as he was awake he found himself itching to do something, anything—and if that was sleeping, then so be it.

Sometimes, he could blatantly eavesdropped while pretending to be asleep, although Draco had a nagging suspicion that Dumbledore knew he was awake whenever he came into visit Madame Pompfrey.

Draco decided that he had to choose his words carefully. He didn't want to sound as though he was an invalid...but...what else could he say?

Harry, who was still waiting for Malfoy's response, hoped he hadn't angered him by talking, but he was growing bored of not saying anything all night. When the light voice of the Slytherin echoed through the deserted hospital wing, Harry subconsciously found himself exhaling a sigh of relief.

"I sleep a lot. And Granger comes in and rattles about class work I've missed after she has dinner. And, well, that's about it, really. There isn't much I can do, you know," he answered primly, sitting up straight in the bed, his neck craned almost naturally towards the moonlit-filled window. It was as though he yearned subconsciously to be outside, amongst the wilds and the woods—rather than here, forever chained to this bed. His expression turned sour for some odd reason, Harry noted, and he added with a sneer, "And what about you? What do you do during your sight-filled with day?"