Cheers, Potter.

I didn't want to let go.

Harry's POV

The morning after the Three Broomsticks, Ron and I were the only ones who weren't hung over in the boy's dorm and we were very smug about it. We made a point of making as much noise as possible; slamming our trunks open and closed, shouting across the room, dumping our books loudly on the tables, just being generally inconsiderate and roguish.

Shockingly, Dean didn't wake up at all, he'd passed out the moment his head hit the pillow when we got back from the pub and hadn't stirred since. He could have died of alcohol poisoning and we'd not have known. When we were about to go down to breakfast, though, I made the executive decision to make sure that wasn't the case. I poked his shoulder a few times and he eventually raised his hand to weakly swat me away.

The others were still wandering around like zombies when Ron, Ginny, Parvati and I all headed down for breakfast. And what an eventful breakfast it was.

We all (save Parvati) opted for plain breakfasts that morning, even though we didn't have terrible hangovers, we still weren't great and didn't want to take the risk of eating anything too flavourful. The Patil twin was very happy with herself, munching on her pastry with jam and grinning smugly that she had not had anything to drink, and laughing that she was glad she never would.

After a little while, a few of the others joined us, Dean, looking incredibly worse for wear though, should have stayed in bed. He had bags under his eyes, his skin had taken on a pale sheen and Hermione was carrying a bucket and looked about ready to throw it at him at the drop of a hat. Not exactly a pleasant sight to bring to breakfast. Once he'd actually thrown up, Seamus offered to take him back to our dorm and he obliged, very eager to get away from the loud and bustling hall and leaning heavily on his best friend's arm.

Everything seemed fine for a beat or two but of course, that wasn't to last. An argument about none other than bloody Malfoy had broken out. Honestly, it was almost Christmas and that irritatingly suave fool was still causing controversy. I tried to mind my business but as the argument got louder It was harder to ignore. I shared a look with Ginny who shrugged and kept her head down, Parvati looked concerned with her eyebrows furrowed, clearly wishing that this sort of thing had all ended when Voldemort did. Ron, though, hadn't noticed anything; he was far too preoccupied with his piece of buttered toast. He was nothing if not consistent. I didn't want to butt in – I reckoned Malfoy would have a fit if I did something chivalrous so I tried to keep my nose out of it.

And we all did until we heard the word 'mudblood' and Ron and Ginny simultaneously stood and turned on the speaker, thunderous looks on their freckled faces. As we later found out, it was a sixth-year picking on one of Malfoy's first-year friends; Constance he'd called her. We turned just in time to see the younger girl run out clutching her face and crying, that was enough for us all to spring into action. Ginny stormed over to the older girl, her face set in fury – enough to terrify anyone sane – with Ron in tow looking equally enraged, Parvati ran to get the closest professor and I went off to look for Constance and make sure she was okay.

I could only have been a handful of seconds behind her but it made no difference. The castle would have to help me out if I wanted to find her anytime this week. I wasn't sure which way she'd gone so it took a few tries and the charitable direction of a few portraits to find her, but when I did someone had beaten me to it; a lanky blond with ridiculously expensive shoes. Could I ever get away from him?

I kept my distance and stayed out of sight but stayed close just in case she needed me although she seemed perfectly comfortable in Malfoy's company. She was hugging him as if he was the only thing keeping her grounded. It was equally strange and wonderful to see Malfoy hug her back. I was kind of jealous. No I wasn't jealous exactly, that's not the right word...

Nice one, Harry,  I thought to myself, just keep telling yourself that.

I strained to try and hear what they were saying but had no luck and after a while Constance seemed to feel better anyway. She and Malfoy began heading towards me, presumably to finish breakfast. I found the nearest door and headed through it for fear of Malfoy accusing me of following him again. I supposed, technically I was.

I decided she was fine with the older Slytherin and eventually I found my way back to the Gryffindor common room. I found the others were already there and swapping notes. Ron told me that he had to hold Gin back or she'd have given the girl who'd hit Constance more than just a piece of her mind, Parvati said that she'd reported her to McGonagall and she would be punished, hopefully severely. I explained the bizarre-ness of Malfoy's brotherly behaviour to the little girl that I'd witnessed in the corridor. More people had joined us during the conversation, all of whom were equally confused by his sudden conviviality.

"I reckon you must have snogged some sense into him, mate" Ron poked Dean, who promptly turned a bright shade of scarlet. We laughed and soon were all side tracked from our original conversation.

~Ж~

Not one of us was expecting Nigel Creevey to come running in an hour or so later, red in the face and panting.

"The girl that – that you were looking for earlier, Harry" he managed to huff out between gulps of air, "She's been taken to the Hospital Wing."

It took a couple of seconds for it to register but once it did, we silently decided that Ginny and I would go to see her and in a matter of seconds we were out of the front door, practically running to the ward.

When we arrived as we'd guessed he would be, Malfoy was with her – but not sat in the chair next to her as we'd expected. He was pacing at the end of the girl's bed with a face twisted into something foul, like he was a moment from shattering into a thousand pieces if he didn't expel his fury soon. It was almost scary when he looked up and saw us.

He was muttering under his breath in French, something I'd not heard him do before, and whatever he was saying sounded unpleasant. Ginny, somehow being consoling and firm-handed, managed to get out of him that he'd had a duel with Merula, the girl who had called Constance a mudblood and Constance had been hit with a jinx. At that, Ginny immediately marched off to find her victim and I'd hate to be on the receiving end of whatever wrath she was about to set free.

Malfoy hadn't stopped mumbling and he was beginning to sound mad; "I should have deflected it", "I should have protected her", "Why did it have to be her?", "She's too good," with various French words and phrases dusted in between. He was even starting sentences in English and finishing them in French, he sounded maniacal.

"Hey," I put on my most soothing voice, one I'd learned from Luna, "by the sound of it, you couldn't have done anything to stop this, Malfoy." I tried to defuse his rage.

"What do you know, Potter? You weren't there!" He shouted without breathing, "She wasn't supposed to get hurt! Connie is the best thing in this damned castle, how did she end up the one in the hospital?!" he got more and more upset with every word, by the end he was tearing up and was an inch from my face, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, mate. I dunno what to say." I said simply and I knew that it sounded stupid. The thing was that I was afraid if I tried anything else, Malfoy would find a way to fight back and it would go on and on until he ended up hitting me or hexing me or both. I didn't really fancy any of those possibilities.

It seemed to work because Malfoy visibly deflated some of his anger. His bottom lip began to quiver and with him so close to my face I could see his eyes begin to well with tears. His head dropped onto my shoulder.

I expected him to immediately back off and then call me an idiot or something, but when he didn't I wrapped my arms around him loosely and just rubbed his back slightly awkwardly. I heard him trying not to cry and pretended not to notice, I knew that he'd hate to cry in front of me. I just looked over to Constance's bed.

She was pale and had lightning burns creeping up around her neck, her eyes looked sunken and she was so pale it made her temples look blue.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Malfoy murmured into my neck.

"It's alright, Malfoy..." I found myself holding him tighter, and even stranger; I didn't want to let go