Cheers, Potter.

It was brilliant.

Draco's POV

The last thing I wanted on a Monday morning was a headache. The feeling of an invisible vice clamping my temples was not a sensation I enjoyed but it was the price I had to pay if I wanted to advance in Legilimency. Blaise had been asking me why I was so desperate to learn, but I knew he'd never understand. I just gave him some rubbish excuse about wanting to know the answers to the upcoming Charms practice test and he shrugged it off under the condition that I give him the answers too and opted to help me as I'd hoped he would.

When he finally arrived in the Hall for breakfast he looked as rough as I felt. He'd probably hex me if he knew I'd even thought that.

"You complete arse," he said as he lolloped into a seat opposite me, "my head is absolutely killing me, it feels like there's a parasite that's been worming ing around in my brain,"

"Technically, that parasite was Draco," Pansy added smugly, having absolutely refused to let me go anywhere near her mind, "it serves you right for practicing magic like that, Legilimency is... creepy," she visibly shuddered and bit into her apple.

"You could get in trouble too, you know the Ministry are really strict on this kind of thing because of the way V–"

"It's just for practice I'm probably not ever going to use it," I interrupted Blaise before he could finish his sentence, trying to sound as innocent as I could, because truly I didn't want to use it for any nefarious reason.

Suddenly, I felt a tingling on the back of my neck and an itch at the back of my mind.

By now, I was used to turning around and seeing Potter staring at me, Pansy and I had made jokes about it; the idea that he considered me to be a significant trouble when... Voldemort had been trying to kill him on a regular basis was, frankly, laughable. But now, when he stared at me, it wasn't out of spite and wariness. He looked embarrassed, his handsomely chiselled face turning a vibrant shade of magenta when I caught him. I couldn't help but grin.

I wasn't stupid; I knew that ordinary enemies-turned-amiable-acquaintances didn't look at one another so constantly. Didn't follow each other around, and act the way we did around each other. That thought only made me smile wider. What annoyed me, though, was that he still didn't know what was going on.

"It's about damn time, Malfoy," Blaise said with a scoff when I shared my epiphany, "Ron and I have been hinting at you guys since Hogsmeade."

I lifted a single, flawless eyebrow at my friend, not remembering any such hints.

"Oh please," he read my expression perfectly, "who do you think told Connie to take you to the ice cream shop? And you think you just so happened that you were there at the same time? Why do you think Harry, of all the Gryffindors that were concerned for Connie, was the one to go to the hospital wing?"

I simultaneously loved and hated my friend upon this revelation, I wanted to sulk at my own stupidity and crinkled my forehead. How had I not realised sooner? I loathed how blind I was when it came to that bloody scar-head.

"Ah, don't be like that," Blaise joked, a jovial smile emblazoned on his face, "you'll get wrinkles," he finished with a laugh and I replied with a less than polite hand gesture that I'd learned from Connie (who, I was certain, should not have been using it at her delicate young age).

After Blaise had eaten, wandered over to Potions slowly enough to kill time but not slow enough to be caught doing so, and by the time we arrived at the class there were very few seats left. I was surprised to see that despite Blaise and Weasley's plan the last seat available to me wasn't beside my ex-nemesis, it was beside his best friend – which I suppose could be considered just as frightening.

I walked over to the open seat and sat gracefully next to the smiling brunette. The fact that she was smiling back was unnerving enough but I almost went into full blown panic when she started making small talk.

"Hi, Draco," she said, her voice bright enough to be pleasant and affable enough to be innocently so, "how are you?"

I stared, dumbfounded, at her, utterly surprised at her willingness to be in conversation with me, let alone nice to me. What made it all worse was the fact that I could see the dark pink and prominent scars of the jagged letters my aunt had savagely carved into her arm, peeking out from behind the sleeve of her blouse, and I could see that even now, it was still healing. It made me feel sick.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned and pulling down her sleeve, knowing what was causing my silence. All I could do was let out a nervous laugh, incongruous to this conversation.

"Am I okay?" I replied incredulously but not meaning to be rude and tried to the reason for my bewilderment must have been plainly obvious.

Professor Slughorn cleared his throat and class began. I did my best to listen and I managed to keep track of what he was saying – I'd already read the chapter he was covering from our textbooks several times over so I could afford for my mind to wander.

When we broke off into pairs, there was a heavy silence between us until–

"I used to hate you, you know" Hermione said at a whisper, looking at me trying to gauge my reaction as though I should be surprised. I produced a graceless and sharp snort in response, and it earned us a stern look from the professor in our direction.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," I joked with a pleasant smile that she returned. I was stunned by how relieving it was that she didn't seem to be harbouring any malign feeling towards me – though I felt that she should.

"I mean as a classmate," she elaborated, "you have always been my main competition, I hated that you were better than me."

"Well, it is known that I am a force to be reckoned with when it comes to potions." I added facetiously, and immediately realised that I shouldn't have said it because for a large part of my life, I had thought myself her better. There was that sick feeling again.

"It's okay," she nudged my shoulder with hers when she saw my smirk drop, "I don't hate you anymore."

I let out a relieved sigh.

"Well, not outside of reason," a small chuckle escaped her throat.

"I really am sorry, you know," I implored, "for everything that happened..."

"I know," she said, "and I appreciate it. I can see that you've changed, Malfoy. You're not as..."

"Conceited?" I offered.

"I was going to say dick-ish,"

I laughed, "That works too."

"So rumour has it you're practicing Legilimency," she said, quieter, not wanting to draw attention, "can I join you? The subject has always fascinated me,"

I was shocked at how cavalier she was about it, then again I thought back to when at the Three Broomsticks, Weasley had told me about the time she set Snape on fire.

"I'd be incredibly grateful for your help, actually," I nodded, "Blaise is a useless lab rat."

"How do you know what a lab rat is?" she looked puzzled and I realised it was a muggle reference.

"Oh... I've been looking into muggle... things," I admitted, "I accidentally read a book by Stephen Hawking, do you know him?"

She expelled an astounded breath, "know him? He's one of the most famous physicists in the muggle world!"

"Well, it fascinated me, and I've been reading about muggle sciences,"

"That's amazing! Ron and Harry have no interest in that sort of thing, I'd love to talk to you about it!" She said excitedly.

"Yeah that sounds great, I'm still learning though,"

"Oh that's fine," she waived a hand dismissively, "why couldn't we have been friends sooner?" she sighed dreamily.

"Probably because I was so dick-ish,"

We laughed together. It was brilliant.