The Binding Potion- A Drarry Fanfiction

The Binding Potion- Chapter Eight

Harry's P.O.V (Tuesday)

I feel a slight tug at my wrist, letting me know that Malfoy is done conversing with friends and plans on heading to the table. I follow numbly, too busy with my thoughts to really take in my surroundings. I need to figure out how I am going to apologize to him because, frankly, I have no idea how I am going to do that right now. I don't have an excuse for what I said. I just got so angry. So angry at the fact he thought I saw my "Golden Boy" as a ticket to fame instead of a curse. I would have given anything to be... normal... and to have spared the lives of those who fell fighting to keep me alive. Apparently, I still have not let go of The War. A voice breaks my veil of thought and I lift my head to see Hermoine and Ron looking at me with concerned gazes. When did they get here?

"Harry, you alright?" Hermoine asks, her voice laced with worry.

"Yeah mate, you seem kind of out of it," Ron adds.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer hollowly.

I flick my gaze to Malfoy who is chatting away with Blaise and Pansy. It hits me for what must be the 50th time today how different Malfoy looks compared to previous years. His haircut is much different. The sides of his head are shaved short while the top is long and messily slicked back. Every once in a while he runs his hands through it as to tame it, even if it only for a little while. He still remains a skinny figure, as he always has, but small groves in his clothes indicate muscles do reside underneath. His eyes remain the same stone grey as always but, as seen by today, vary from a cold to warm tone depending on his mood. Like right now... they are warm and light, like moonlight on a mountain. Wait, what..? Since when did I start making metaphors about Malfoy's eyes? Is guilt really hitting me this hard?

"HARRY!"

Once again I am awoken by Hermoine's voice. I swerve my head towards her and Ron.

"Yes?"

Both of them stare at me with a worried gaze and then at each other and then back at me once more.

"Mate... were are starting to get concerned about you. You have barely have said anything to us today and every time we look at you it looks as though someone sent you a nasty howler" Ron says, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I'm fine" I state blatantly.

Hermoine looks contemplatively at me, as though she was trying to decide whether to ask me something or not. I raise my eyebrow at her and she sighs before going on to say:

"We heard about what happened between you and Malfoy in Transfiguration today... does it have something to do with that?"

Everyone within an earshot goes silent and turns their heads to look my way, including Malfoy. My eyes go wide and I simply stare at Hermione, unable to say anything. I feel my cheeks go hot as everyone's gazes seem to be burning deep into me. Apparently, word of this morning's incident has spread more rapidly than I expected. They wait for me to answer something I don't know the full answer to. I know I am embarrassed and ashamed by my actions, but I also know that there is another factor causing my dazed and hurt state that I can't quite pinpoint yet. I can feel it burrowing its way into my heart like a maggot, rotting me from within, but I can't identify what it is.

I say nothing, I just simply stare down into my lap and fiddle with my hands. I'm sure this response will be an answer enough for Hermoine, or to anyone with simple deduction skills. I can feel Malfoy's gaze burning into the side of my neck and my peripheral vision confirms that he is, indeed, staring at me. Mustering up whatever Gryffindor courage I can find, I look up and meet his eyes. His face is calculating and cold, but deep inside his eyes, I can see the moonlight shining on a mountain, indicating warmth. He can see that I am truly sorry. Maybe now I will have a chance to explain myself to him. I can't do it in the Great Hall, I won't be able to fully open up, but I will later tonight. I meet his gaze for a couple of moments more, trying to portray my emotions that I can't verbalize through my gaze, before turning back to my half-cold and untouched meal. I can feel his gaze pull away as well but, unlike earlier in the meal, he remains silent.