Cheers, Potter.

Obsessed with Draco Malfoy.

Harry's POV

I couldn't help but laugh out loud, it earned me a disapproving look from both Slytherins. From Constance because she was dead serious and heartbroken about missing lunch, and from Malfoy – I assume – because he hated anyone showing outward emotion that wasn't pure disdain. Both looks of course, stopped my laughter, but I was still inwardly smiling.

Madam Pomfrey soon came hurrying over, asking – no, forcing – us to back away and stop crowding Connie's bedside. She checked her lightning burns and made the poor girl drink some clearly foul-tasting medicine, as if she's not been through enough, I thought to myself lightly. It made me wonder for a moment why, even in a world full of magic, wonder, and endless possibilities, all medicine was still disgusting. Constance took the opportunity of the Matron's attention to ask if she could leave, to which of course Pomfrey frowned and listed the reasons why that would be a truly terrible idea, the girl clearly regretted asking after that.

Once we were again allowed to sit beside her, we fell into a somewhat tight but easy conversation but the second I thought we were getting comfortable, Connie asked the question that neither of us wanted to answer.

"So what's the sitch with you two?"

"Sitch?" Malfoy asked, clearly focusing on the wrong part of the question.

"Yeah, you know, are you, like, exes or something?"

"No!" We both choked out too loudly, necessitating a laugh from the little girl.

"You argue like it," she said with a grin, "or at least like you're pining after each other." I could feel my face getting hotter by the second.

I chanced a glance over to Malfoy, he looked just as constipated as I felt. I looked away before he caught me, scratching the back of my neck and scrunched my nose up in distaste. The blond was fiddling with something on the bedside table, not making eye contact with neither me nor Connie, I did however, take note of the fact that he didn't deny it. But, I suppose that I didn't either.

"Chillax, you guys, I'm joking." Constance said after what must have been a long period of deafening silence, she readjusted herself, trying to sit up in her bed and did her best to hide the pain she was feeling, I suspected for the benefit of her friend.

"Chillax?" Malfoy looked genuinely put out, "I'm going to have a word with your prefect, young lady."

She smiled, "You're my prefect, you prat."

"Prat!? That's it," he sat back folding her arms, "I'm not going to plait your hair ever again,"

She looked equal parts angry and amused, "you liar, you love my hair,"

"Only when you brush it more than once a week," Malfoy replied stoicly, they were staring at each other and seemed to have forgotten I was there. I took a second to replay what I'd heard: he plaits her hair? And enjoys it? I was nearly floored. It seemed like such a sweet, familial thing to do, I'd never seen Malfoy in that light before. It suited him.

I wasn't as surprised by their easy banter, but the way they were together was worth noting, happy in each other's company, comfortable, like all of the best parts of having a sibling with none of the bad. A feeling I only knew after being as good as adopted by the Weasley family. I admired the joyful and almost hidden glint in Malfoy's eye as he teased the younger Slytherin, he smiled on one side of his mouth not letting it spread wider than that, he pouted slightly... he looked handsome.

Moving on, my brain all but shouted.

"As great as this has been," I said as I stood, "I'm gonna go. I'm glad you're okay littl'en" Connie smiled a thank you at me and I took my leave but turned before I got to the door.