The Cowardly Lion (Book 1)

11: Of Interventions and Chocolate Frogs

Draco found the main character of The Wizard of Oz, a girl from some strange place called Kansas, to be quite annoying. She was just so cheery, so desperate to get back home to Kansas, wherever that was - it had to be a made-up place, he'd decided, as surely there was no actual place called Kansas. Today, he had chosen to sit in the corner of the Great Hall, after dinnertime; it was evening, and the candles were out, but Draco had only to murmur, "Lumos," and then the tip of his wand provided enough light for reading.

"I don't want to see him, he's made it perfectly clear he doesn't want to see me - "

Draco jumped up - what was Harry doing here? And Hermione, and Ron - what were they all doing here?

"Draco, I swear I will put the Full Body-Bind on you if you move," threatened Hermione. She was awfully scary when she was mad, but Draco decided to risk it anyway.

She had not been bluffing - his arms and legs snapped together, and soon Draco was lying on the floor, wishing he could glare at Hermione. Harry looked at him, and for the first time Draco saw how badly Harry looked. His cheeks seemed hollow, he seemed skinnier than usual, and he only met Draco's eyes for a brief second before he looked away.

"He doesn't want to talk to me, it's okay," muttered Harry.

"It's not okay, the both of you are so depressed - Draco won't stop reading The Wizard of Oz, for Merlin's sake, he must've read it a hundred times by now - and even Ron's noticed something's up!"

Ron nodded, before suddenly frowning at the backhanded compliment. "Wait - what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just - I'm going to lift the jinx on Draco, and you two will talk, because I'm locking the doors of the Great Hall and I won't open them again until you do," promised Hermione, and she immediately did so. Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and took a seat on the abandoned Slytherin table.

"I miss you," Harry finally said, after a long period of silence. "It used to be Potter and Malfoy, side by side, you and me, and now I've just got Ron and Hermione, and they're great, but you just - you're my best friend, Draco, and now you won't talk to anybody, and you're avoiding everyone, and I don't know why."

Draco fiddled with his fingers, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. What would Harry think if he found out Draco had been driven to silence over Christmas break?

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, won't you say something?" cried Harry, leaning forward and yanking Draco's head up, so their eyes met. At the sudden touch, Draco flinched away, remembering his father's cruelty, and Harry frowned.

"Draco, what's going on? You're so jumpy," Harry stated. "Was it Christmas? Hermione said you had bad memories, of a sort...what's in your robe?"

He frowned, looking down, only to see that Lucius' letter still remained in his pocket; Draco had never taken it out. He quickly jumped to his feet, but Harry's Seeker reflexes were too quick for Draco, and he took the letter, reading it.

"Draco, did your father do something?" Harry looked up from the letter, asking slowly, anger in every syllable.

In situations like this, Draco had always found that it was best to run, and so he ran towards the Great Hall's enormous double doors, banging wildly on them in the hopes that maybe Hermione would open them. Evidently having not expected this, Hermione did, looking in confusion and worry at Draco, and before she could do anything else, Draco was running. He didn't know where to, he didn't know what would happen, but he knew that he was a bloody coward, and he was terrified of what would happen once Harry inevitably found him.

Unfortunately, something even worse happened - Draco ran straight into Crabbe, and quickly backed up. Crabbe and Goyle, or Harry?

"Our fathers told us you'd be running back to us," jeered Crabbe, smirking victoriously at Draco. "Also told us you were a bloody coward who wouldn't talk to anybody, now, isn't that right? Said you had quite the Christmas with your father, didn't you?"