Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You)

Chapter 3: Entanglement

"Blaise and Pansy," Harry said as he examined Draco's Mark. "They fight a lot."

Draco shrugged. He was cold—the temperature had dipped several degrees, and he hadn't dressed appropriately. "They're like brother and sister. We've known each other for ages."

"But you don't fight with them."

"I'm more discerning in choosing my battles," he said wryly. Harry laughed.

"I had no idea Theo and Lavender were together."

Draco wrinkled his nose. "I'd forgotten she used to snog Weasley."

"It'd be so much easier if you just called him Ron, you know," Harry said. He rubbed Draco's forearm with the palm of his hand. "Are you alright? You're freezing."

"Fine. And Weasley and I are perfectly happy on last name basis, thank you very much."

"How about this?" Harry rolled Draco's sleeve higher, taking care to fold it evenly. "You start calling my friends by their first names, and I'll start conjuring a blanket in Slytherin colours. And a pillow."

"I quite like the blue." Draco sniffed. "Sets off my eyes."

Harry sniggered. He took out his wand and traced it along Draco's Mark. He suddenly stopped, frowning. "Are you cold? You feel really cold."

"I'm fine." Draco nodded at his Mark. "Go on." Harry rolled his eyes, but he complied, pressing the tip of his wand into Draco's arm.

"I've noticed something," Draco said. The words came out before he could stop them. "You have loads to say here, but you were quiet, the other night. At the Three Broomsticks."

Harry paused, glancing up at him. For a moment, Draco wondered if he had offended him, or said the wrong thing. But Harry didn't seem angry.

"I think..." Harry sat back, considering him. The tip of his wand still rested on Draco's Mark. "I think I just find it weird, seeing you with your friends."

"Why?" Draco asked, confused. "You have your friends, I have mine."

"Yeah." Harry went back to examining Draco's arm, brows furrowed.

"Have I...have I said the wrong thing?"

"'Course not." Harry leaned forward, eyes trained on the Mark. "Ready, then?" Draco nodded, not knowing what else to do. "Three...two...one..."

The classroom smelled of citrus. Draco was ladling his bright orange potion into a vial, taking care not to spill any onto the workbench.

"Bring your potions to the front, and you may leave. Mr. Malfoy, a word, if you please."

Draco stiffened as the others scrambled to deposit their potions onto Severus' desk and escape. Pansy leaned over to touch his arm. "Are you okay, Draco? Should I wait for you?"

He shook his head. "I'll see you at dinner. It's probably about my paper from last week."

Pansy gave him a doubtful look but followed Blaise and Theo out of the room. Severus stayed seated at his desk, sorting through a pile of parchment. Sighing to himself, Draco swung his satchel over his shoulder and stalked to the front. Wordlessly, he set his vial next to the others. Still, Severus said nothing. Draco leaned against a desk, arms crossed, waiting to be addressed.

"Your classmates have truly outdone themselves in producing illegible drivel this year," Severus muttered. Glancing up, he asked, "Is there any particular reason you're crossing your arms and scowling at me like a four-year-old?