Draco flinches and looks away, mouth curled downwards. “We lost the chance for that back in first year. Too late for friendship bracelets now,” he mutters.
Harry recalls it, 11-year-old Draco and the hand that he refused. He blinks, surprised at Draco’s reaction. Surprised that Draco still remembers that moment and thinks much of it.
Draco sighs, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. “And besides, why would you even want to be friends with me?”
“Merlin knows why, you’re such an irritating git,” Harry responds, mimicking his sigh. He points his fork at Draco. “But I’m staying, so stop trying to pick a fight with me. I don’t want to explain to Narcissa why I taped your mouth.”
Draco raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m actually asking serious questions here. You’re the one being all defensive about it.”
Harry flushes with shame, because he knows that that’s exactly what he’s feeling right now. He shoves a piece of toast in his mouth. “Sorry. I just want to do it, okay? Isn’t that reason enough?”
The look that Draco gives him tells him that no, it is not enough. Draco still looks like he wants to ask another question, but in the end, he just takes the napkin from his plate and unfolds it on his lap.
“Potter.”
“Hm?”
“Stop eating like a Neanderthal. You’re making a mess.”
Harry swallows down his toast. He grins. “Sorry, Malfoy.”
“Potter,” Draco says, three days later. Breakfast and lunch has both come and gone, and this is the first time Draco has spoken today.
Harry looks up from his book.
Draco peers at him and then his book, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. He tilts his head. Swallows. It takes a while before he talks. “What are you doing in my house again?”
“Reading?”
Draco blinks, and his eyes clear. He sags back in his wheelchair, as if tired from the effort of coming into the world again. He clears his throat, swallows the dryness in his voice away. “Merlin, I thought they sent me to Azkaban, not some other dimension where you actually have the refinement to read a Potions book.”
“I do want to pass my NEWTs this year, Malfoy.”
“I’m not betting on it.”
“That’s why I asked Narcissa to let me borrow your books.”
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