The Library--Drarry

Chapter 6

The frost outside the castle grew thicker as December crept closer, and the promise of Christmas break hung in the air. Harry couldn't help but notice that Draco seemed to linger in the library more often these days, as though he were avoiding something—or someone.

Harry sat in the common room with Hermione and Ron, pretending to read while Ron went on about Quidditch strategies.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, lowering her book. "Are you alright? You've been spending a lot of time alone lately."

"I'm fine," Harry said, a little too quickly.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "You've been in the library a lot. You're not actually revising, are you?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe I'm trying something new."

Hermione gave him a knowing look. "It wouldn't have anything to do with Malfoy, would it?"

Ron sputtered. "Malfoy? What's he got to do with this?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly, standing up. "I'll see you later."

"Harry—" Hermione began, but he was already out the portrait hole.

That evening, Harry arrived at the library to find Draco already there, looking more tense than usual.

"Rough day?" Harry asked, sitting down.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You could say that."

Harry hesitated, then asked, "Do you ever talk to your friends about... things?"

Draco snorted. "You mean Pansy and Blaise? They mean well, but they're not exactly the confiding type."

Harry smiled faintly. "Sounds like Ron and Hermione. Except Hermione's always prying, and Ron can't keep a secret to save his life."

Draco's lips quirked into a smirk. "And yet, you're still their fearless leader."

"Something like that," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

They worked in silence for a while, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Draco wanted to say more. Finally, Draco set his quill down and leaned back in his chair.

"Potter," he said quietly, "do you ever think about what it would be like if things had been... different?"

Harry frowned. "Different how?"

Draco gestured vaguely. "If we hadn't been at each other's throats all those years. If... we'd actually been friends."

Harry blinked, startled by the question. "I—yeah," he admitted. "I've thought about it."

Draco looked at him, his gray eyes piercing. "And?"

Harry shrugged, feeling strangely exposed under Draco's gaze. "I think... we might've been good at it."

Draco's smirk returned, softer this time. "Imagine that. Potter and Malfoy, friends."

"Stranger things have happened," Harry said, smiling.

As they left the library that night, walking side by side through the quiet halls, Harry realized that the walls between them were crumbling faster than he'd expected.