Cheers, Potter.

Harry, You're Hopeless.

Harry's POV

"Sorry," was the first thing Malfoy said after helping me up for the fourth time that evening, "I'm just very... angry."

"Well it's a pretty good advantage," I replied thinking about the embarrassing fact that I'd only managed to land two spells on him and he'd floored me twice as many times.

He laughed through his nose, looking down at his feet, "why are you being so," he paused for thought, "not-mean,"

"Mean is your bag, remember?" I teased, but when he looked up I could see this wasn't a joking matter.

"I mean it, Potter. Why aren't you making my life a living Hell? Merlin knows everyone else is,"

"I guess I just don't think you deserve it."

"But I do," I could see he was getting frustrated now; he wanted me to hold him accountable.

"Fine, I think you're a right foul git," he made a bitter face but I didn't stop, "you're a poncy, self-important prick and you've never taken responsibility for anything you've ever done. You're spiteful and rude and don't deserve forgiveness."

Malfoy seemed shocked at my words. So I continued.

"Is that what you want to hear? Because I don't believe any of it, because none of it's true. You were just never that good at being a villain, Malfoy, no matter how much you wanted to be."

He took a while to process that, frowning as he did and refusing to make eye contact with me. I tried to guess at what he was thinking but he was very difficult to read, I thought he was angry at what I said then his features softened and I thought the opposite but he looked sad at the same time.

"You are the worst," he finally said, decidedly, "Saint Harry Potter, you always have to do the bloody honourable thing. It's infuriating," Really, it was a compliment but he managed to make it sound insulting and I got angry for a second before my mind was awash with disappointment.

"You know what?" I said exasperated, and tired enough to be unabashedly honest, "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you feeling sorry for yourself. I'm trying here, trying to be nice, extend an olive branch but all you do is beat me with it. So if you're going to be a child, forget it. Find me when you decide to grow up."

I left without another word, bored and tired, I headed to the common room.

"Wait," I heard Malfoy say, coming up behind me, he gritted his teeth, "you're right,"

"Sorry?"

"Shut up, Potter, or I'll hex you again," he narrowed his eyes, this was clearly painful for him, "there's no real reason for me to hate you, I know that, it's just that that is all I really know how to do."

I was quiet for a bit, letting him squirm and tried not to enjoy it too much. "Fine, I'm not saying I like you, but let's stop making things difficult for each other, deal?"

Malfoy seemed surprised, like he'd never expect that I'd treat him as an equal. I didn't know why, but that hurt me more than I thought it would. Maybe it was just my compulsive need to be liked.

"Very well, Potter," Malfoy replied holding out his hand, I took it, "We're even."

~Ж~

Arriving back at the common room with a split lip and a grazed cheek was exactly the way to grab the attention of my housemates. The second I sat down I was bombarded with a mixture of worried and withering looks, fussing hands and slightly aggressive questions.

"You really are always covered in blood aren't you, Harry?" Ginny looked at me as if she had already decided it was probably my fault I looked like this, a little humour in her eyes.