all i know is we said hello
Saturday, June 5th, 1997. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, UK.
Dear Professor Snape, we have accepted the fact that we had to sacrifice an entire Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're mad for telling us to write an essay explaining to you who you think we are. What do you care? You perceive us as the way you want to perceive us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a chosen one, and a criminal, yes? That's the way we saw each other at seven 'o clock this morning. We were brainwashed.
Ten hours. Five kids. One classroom.
The first to arrive, of course, was Hermione. She came in looking as clean and polished as usual, apart from her frizzy hair. Swung around her torso was a book bag, filled with everything a star student would need. Textbooks, old notes, rolls of parchment, collections of quills, ink wells. She sat down in the first avaliable seat in the front of the class, taking out what could only be an assignment to work on.
The second to arrive was Draco. As though he were brooding, he stormed into the class and stopped when he saw Hermione. She looked up and for a moment, they met eyes and time froze. He stared at her for only a moment longer before muttering something under his breath and collapsed in a seat in the far back corner of the class, as far away from Granger as possible. She turned back to her schoolwork, seemingly unbothered.
The third to arrive was Ginny Weasley, in all her glory. She had a Holey-Head Harpies jersey thrown over her jeans; she earned a very dirty look from a certain someone with eerily white blonde hair. She didn't seem upset at being in detention and took the seat behind Hermione. Similar to Hermione, she had brought a bag, but it was instead filled with non-academic books and the like. She didn't take anything out and simply waited for the professor to make his appearance.
The fourth to arrive was none other than Harry Potter. He took a seat at a table near Ginny and Hermione, a very light bag that seemed to only be filled with scrolls of parchment and perhaps a few quills and ink wells. As soon ashe sat down, he burrowed his face in his arms and closed his eyes, attempting to sleep.
Finally, the last student, as well as the teacher, entered. Luna looked in a daze, as she always did, a hand-knitted bag swung around her shoulder. She took a seat in front of Draco and began to count the number of shrivelfigs hanging from a nearby potioneering station.
Snape was as blunt and horrible as always, robes flying around behind him like the wings of a bat, seeming to give off a more threatening impression that his gnarled appearance did. He swooped down the middle aisle between the rows of worktables and stood in front of his desk, staring out at all of them menacingly.
"You all know why you are here," he stated curtly, a dour expression haunting his face. He grabbed a pile of parchment and slowly approached with each one as he spoke, placing down two scrolls of parchment in front of each of them, adding an extra one to Harry's stack. "You know what today is. But for those of you who lack the proper memory, I shall remind you." His gaze was pointed towards Harry, who stared up at him boredly. "Today is detention. This means no speaking. No sleeping." As he passed Hermione he slammed her book close. "No homework." Hermione gave him a scandalized sort of look. "No reading. No music or entertainment of any sorts. No magic."
He turned and walked slowly back down the aisle. "You will be writing an essay on who you are," he said sneeringly. "Two scrolls. To be completed and handed in by the end of detention. If I here even one sound when I step out of this classroom, you will all be here next Saturday, is that understood?"
There was a chorus of "yes, sir" from all and a long stare into each of their eyes from Snape. When he was satisfied with their behavior, he stormed into his office and began to grade homework, rather irritated.
The air was filled with the sound of a quill scratching at parchment- Hermione had already cast aside her book and began to write. When she noticed none of the others were doing the same, she turned around to glance at them.
"You all should really be writing your essay's. The sooner they're finished, the less irritated Snape will be." She turned back around and began scrawling like mad on her parchment - none of them would be surprised if she had finished the paper in ten minutes.
"What do you care?" Draco asked with a sneer. "As long as you finish your essay, Granger, he should be of no bother to you."
Granger whipped her head around to glare at Malfoy.
"Funny. I would think you'd be suckering up to Professor Snape and kissing his arse."
Draco smirked bitterly at Hermione. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Hermione went quite a pale shade of red when he asked that - everyone had known that Hermione had obliviated her parents with such a strong memory charm that not even the most powerful Ministry officials could bring their memories back . . . the only person strong enough could have been Dumbledore, but he was dead. Everyone knew it was a touchy subject (or assumed so - no one would want to cross Hermione Granger - she was vicious when she was angry).
Harry noticed this and turned to Draco with furrowed brows. "Well, if we're going to bring up parents, Malfoy, why don't we talk about your father? How's he doing in Azkaban? Enjoying the cold?"
"You're one to talk - tell me about yours. Is he comfortable in his coffin?"
"Will you all just shut up?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes as she dipped a quill in an ink well absentmindedly. "I'm trying to think here."
"Quiet," Snape told them in a warning tone, sending them all a rather dark look that suggested that one more word from their mouth would result in the severing of a tounge.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione said, huffing, holding her hand over her mouth and glancing over at the door. "Muffliato." She turned back to look at the others. "There, if you're going to spend the entire time arguing, you might as well not get us in trouble." As Hermione turned back to the assignment at hand, the classroom settled into silence. Harry nor Draco made a move towards the rolls of parchment Snape had given them. Instead minutes passed as the sound of Hermione and Ginny's quills scribbled.
What interrupted the peace a second time was not the usual bickering between Malfoy and Harry, but the sound of parchment being torn apart. All eyes turned towards Luna, who had started to tear her parchment apart. No one said anything at first - everyone was used to Luna's abnormal behavior. But it seemed Hermione had reached her boiling point after about ten seconds and whipped around again with a furious glance (she was a rather impatient girl).
"Will you stop that? I can't concentrate," Hermione said.
"Oh, leave her alone," Ginny said. "She's got nothing better to do. It's not a big deal. At least it's better than those two." She nodded in the general direction of Harry and Draco.
Hermione glanced between Luna and Ginny, letting out a huff before turning back around. It was common knowledge that Hermione had a strong dislike for Luna and that Luna didn't really care for Hermione. They were opposites of the same coin. One was logical, impatient, close-minded. The other theoretical, patient, and open-minded. It didn't make for a very blossoming friendship.
More time passed. Finally, Harry nudged Hermione, who was still quite grumpy. "Can I borrow a quill and ink? I didn't bring anything with me." Hermione quickly dug into her bag and procured a random quill and ink well, shoving it into Harry's outstretched arms and returning to her essay. Harry set out what he had been given and began to write. Eventually Draco even got his own quill and ink out. There was a long bout of silence between them all - it was for the best really. Snape seemed quite pleased (or as pleased as Snape could be) by their silence.
Harry let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair. "This is so stupid. Why does Snape care who I am? I don't even know who I am."
There was a pause. "For once, I agree with you Potter." He placed down his quill. "Why should we have to do this stupid essay? Even if he gives us more detention, there's only two more weeks until the terms over and it's our last year, so it's not like he can carry over detention into the next year like he used to."
Harry looked thoughtful and turned around, for once not looking even remotely angered or irritated by Malfoy. "You know, for once, I agree with you too."
"Great, you two are bonding now, can you shut up?" Ginny asked with a roll of her eyes.
Ginny looked hesitantly down at her parchment - she didn't want to get into hot waters with Snape but it would be so nice to take a break from all the studying she had done in preparation for finals, all the late night Quidditch practices, all the boring homework. They were right . . . but then again, how was she ever supposed to have any fun with that twat Malfoy around?
"Are you really planning on spending the -" She glanced at the clock hanging on the dungeon wall. "- next nine hours and fourty-four minutes with him?" It was obvious who exactly this him was.
"Everyone be quiet, he's coming over!" Hermione whispered hurriedly, scribbling even faster on her parchment. Ginny whirled around, her flaming red hair moving with her, as she looked down at her paper with a troubled sort of look and bit the end of her quill. Harry stared down at his parchment rather forcedly and didn't look up. Draco only leaned back in his chair, looking almost relaxed.
Snape stormed into the room. "Breakfast was supposed to have arrived sixteen minutes ago, but seeing as most of our house-elves are on strike -" Snape sent a pointed glare Hermione's way. "- the meagre amount of cooks the headmistress was able to procure seem to be overwhelmed by the amount of work." He paused. "Malfoy. Potter. Go to the kitchens and bring breakfast down. You will be back in twenty minutes." He stared at the both of him with those raven black eyes, as though daring them to protest or argue with him. Neither decided to test the waters and got up from the seats, leaving the Potions classroom.
Harry, jittery and awkward as he was, couldn't help but fill the silence between the two. "You know, I think that's the first time you and I have actually come to agree on something." Draco scoffed and said nothing. Harry was bursting at the seams - there was a question he had been dying to ask him for ages. Harry stopped Draco in his path, holding out his hand. "At the Battle of Hogwarts, you threw me my wand. When Bellatrix asked you if I was Harry Potter, you didn't give a clear answer. I want to know why." Harry didn't give Draco a moment to respond. "I've thought about it all year. I just don't get it - you had met Voldemort, you were desperate to prove yourself to him, yet when you were asked to hand me in, you didn't. You outwardly betrayed him."
Draco's eyes were everywhere but Harry - he didn't want to admit it, too prideful too, but he had come to terms with the fact that he had feelings for Potter within the last year. He had never had any romantic feelings for girls - and it wasn't simply because he wasn't attracted to Pansy, he just wasn't attracted to any of them. Girls. He thought maybe something was wrong with him - but Blaise had pointed out that while he didn't have a school-crush like many of their classmates did (yes, even the high and might Blaise Zabini had succumbed to one as well), he did have an odd obsession with Potter. That was the first domino that toppled them all. It may have taken him a while after that, but he figured it out eventually. He was fucking in love with his arch enemy.
Draco shrugged. "That was when my father was in jail - I had no need to prove myself to the Dark Lord after he escaped Azkaban." He began to walk again, expression neutral, hands in his pockets. Harry hurried to meet Draco's pace.
"That's a lie and you know it," Harry said angrily. He didn't understand - what exactly was Malfoy hiding from him? Harry deserved to know the truth, didn't he? "Tell me the truth, Malfoy, or -"
"Or what? You'll hex me?" Harry looked almost surprised as Draco turned to face him - he was sporting a smile, a smile. Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince, the King of Slytherin, was smiling in simple amusement. Draco bent down to meet Harry's line of sight. "Do it. I dare you."
Harry's eyes bored into Draco, initiating a long-standing staring contest.
"No?" Draco asked after a long moment, his smile weaseling its way into a sly smirk. He started to back away and began to walk briskly towards the kitchens once more. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a Gryffindor. The Chosen One."
"I wasn't going to hex you!" Harry sputtered out, jogging to keep up with Draco's pace. "Why won't you just answer my question?"
"Because it's none of your buisness," Draco hissed in response.
Quiet reigned for about a minute before Harry sighed tiredly. "Why is everything always a problem with you Malfoy? All year, I've been trying to - to -"
"To what?" Draco asked in irritation.
"To get on better terms!" Harry exclaimed in exasperation.
"Why?" Draco asked, absolutely oblivious to why Potter would ever want to be on good terms with him. The guy who bullied him relentlessly for six long years, who got him into numerous detentions as a result of his stupid schemes. He was exactly what all Potter's little Gryffindor friends thought him to be - a sly, conniving little snake.
"Answer my question first and then I'll answer yours."
Draco scowled and the silence returned. They walked on that way for a while - through the corridors, up the stairs past the rowdy portraits and wandering students. Why couldn't Potter just accept the fact that Draco had helped him out in a moment of need and deal with it? Why did he have to go asking questions, making him ache to confess his feelings for him? Why couldn't he just shut up?
Draco turned towards Harry. "Is it so hard to comprehend that I simply wanted to help you?"
Harry looked up at Draco, his mouth set into a thin line. There was a rather lengthy pause before Harry responded with a concise, "yes."
Draco stared down at him and said, "well, I did want to help you. So . . . . there." He continued to walk on without another word.