We Sorta Kinda Just Happened (A Drarry Story)

Chapter 7

Hello every one! There was a bit of a delay getting this up, it wasn't much, but to make up for it I made this chapter longer than usual. Enjoy!

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Draco heard rumors flying around the Great Hall the next morning.

"...Zacharias found in a hallway..."

"...Walked past him, positively reeked of firewhiskey..."

"...And then he's all like, 'Whuuhh? What am I doing here...I was just doing rounds..."

"...All that whiskey must have went to his head..."

"I walked in on McGonagall giving him some-"

"Ewww!"

"Not like that, idiot! Get your mind out of the gutter! I didn't even finish my sentence! She was giving him some grief!"

"Oh. Thank goodness."

Draco grimaced as he blew on steaming oatmeal.

He did not need that mental picture of McGonagall and Smith.

Anyway, it seemed to him that his spell worked.

But where in the world had Smith gotten firewhiskey?

Must have found it somehow, he thought, and helpfully forgot that, too.

Or maybe someone had seen Smith passed out and poured their alcohol on him for no apparent reason.

What a waste of firewhiskey.

Draco refused to think of what had likely happened, which was someone had seen him.

Which was bad.

And helped him.

Which was good.

Though, not in the way he would first think of.

But he only knew one person who was that much of a bloody martyr.

So, it wasn't likely that had happened.

Though probably did.

How had he snuck past Draco?

What happened to not thinking about it, hmm?

He nearly ran a hand through his hair, but thought better of it. He settled for grabbing a spoon, and attacked his oatmeal, which had settled down to lukewarm.

Just think about Potions, he consoled himself, its next and...

ARGH!

Its with the martyr himself.

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Harry was having a fun time listening to what people had thought happened to Smith, but he doubted himself a little, too.

Had he done the right thing?

And why did he help Malfoy?

You didn't help him, he reminded himself, you just didn't not help him...

He uncomfortably crunched his cereal.

Hermione was busy talking to Ron, Luna was talking a vaguely interested looking Hufflepuff, but Ginny was staring at him from the Gryffindor table.

Outright, very unsubtle, point blank staring.

She had an odd expression on her face, equal parts dissatisfied and curious.

Harry put another scoop of cereal into his mouth while she continued to look.

Harry knew why she was looking.