We Sorta Kinda Just Happened (A Drarry Story)

Chapter 3

Draco gently shut the door to his room in the eighth year's wing.

He hated sharing rooms in his earlier years at Hogwarts.

Now as an eighth year, everyone had their own room.

He walked off to the common room, where he saw Hermione waiting in a plush red and gold armchair.

They don't usually walk together, but he had a feeling that an interrogation was in his near future.

She greeted him and matched his pace to the Great Hall.

"Sooo..." She started.

"You mean, nooo, seeing as I'm not going to talk about it."

The fact she noticed his brief reverie irked him. He prided himself on being sneaky and unobvious.

And he was thinking about Potter, not some ditzy, airheaded, girl, thank you very much.

He paused.

What made her think it was a girl?

Probably, a rather unwelcome side of his brain supplied, probably looked like you were thinking of someone you li-

OKAY, let's stop that thought right there!

Draco ran his hand down his face while still pointedly ignoring a huffy Hermione.

She just read my face wrong, he reassured himself, my face probably looked like...

Like what?

What did his face look like?

Or, what should it have?

Disgust?

After all, it was Potter.

Annoyance?

He was thinking about him too much.

Neutrality?

Potter did save his life...

Draco realized he wasn't sure exactly what he thought about Potter anymore.

~•~•~

The breeze blew amaibly around Harry's shoulders.

Ron hopped off the train behind him.

"Good to be back, isn't it?"

He glanced back at him, then forward again. Soaking in his surroundings.

"Hogwarts is home." He stated simply.

A home, he thought, my home.

He was impressed with how much they had rebuilt since the last time he was here. It was almost as if the war had never happened. But you could tell it did.

At least Harry could.

If he was to answer you honestly, he would say he wanted to take everything about Voldemort, the war...

The deaths, he moodily thought.

Shove it all into a box, keep it in the attic, and never think about again.

As you can see, he was doing great with not thinking about it.

He hoped being back would help.

Everyone needs a bit more happy memories.

A loud rumble sounded behind him. It was the familiar cry of Ron's stomach.

"Harry?"

"I guess, Ron, we should go and have some food."

~•~•~