The Butterfly Effect

Draco dropped his books with a loud thud attempting to catch Granger’s attention but the girl barely glanced up from where she was devouring a passage from her Transfiguration textbook.

“Afternoon Draco,” she said distractedly tucking a curl behind her ear. “In a bad mood again then ? What’s Harry done now ?”

He sputtered indignantly, “I am not in a bad mood, Granger! I was simply attempting to tell you something.”

She glanced up, bright eyes focusing on him. “What is it ?”

“Well, you see the other day, in Potions I noticed that Potter was unusually transfixed on Karkaroff. I was wondering why exactly the Durmstrang Headmaster caught the golden boy's attention.”

“Oh,” her mouth pulled into a little smile, “Harry is investigating him. He’s turned into a real detective that one.”

“Well he should stop sticking his nose into places where it doesn’t belong,” Draco snapped angrily as he yanked his quill from his bag, “Karkaroff isn’t like Snape, he’s dangerous. I know all about him, he’s friendly with my father.”

Granger’s eyes went wide and her smile transformed into a little giggle. “You’re worried about Harry!”

“I am not! I’m simply telling you to tell that buffoon to mind himself.”

“You can tell him yourself,” she tilted her chin and already dreading whatever she was indicating, Draco followed her gaze.

There was Potter, looking resolutely determined with a miserable Weasley trailing behind him. Even in his irritation, Draco felt his mouth curling into a smirk at the sight of the red head’s pinched face.

“Hermione, Malfoy,” Potter greeted them amicably as he dropped into the seat beside Draco.

Weasley gave a strangled, “Hello,” and fell into the seat beside Hermione. He seemed intent on pretending Draco wasn’t there and that more than suited him.

“Why are you here ?”

Harry didn’t seem to register Draco’s astonishment. He began to pile his books onto the desk, barely glancing at him.

“To study, obviously. We are in a library, Malfoy." 

“I wasn’t aware you knew how to.”

“Dick,” Potter snapped back but strangely he was grinning.

Draco was not smiling however, “Why are you behaving like an utter nutter ? First Potions, and now studying. Have you forgotten that we hate each other Potter ?”

“You don’t have a problem studying with Hermione!”

“Because she is decidedly the most likeable one of you lot. I quite enjoy her company and that can hardly be said for you and Weasley.”

Harry’s face went dark, as it did when he was on the verge of cursing him out and Draco felt a savage lick of satisfaction.

Then Granger hurriedly jumped in, “Oh stop it, you two. Go on and tell Harry, what you were telling me Draco.”

He turned to her with a furious glare but she had gone back to her book, ignoring him and Weasley simultaneously.

The fool was staring at her with a slack jaw, “How long have you and Malfoy been chumming it together ?”

“I don’t know, Ronald. A few weeks. I find that we share many similar interests. It's nice talking to someone like him, once in awhile." 

Weasley shot Draco a hateful look and feeling vindictive, he gave the other boy a little finger waggle. Face flushing crimson, Weasley buried his head in his Divination book. It was odd, normally the red haired menace would've been snapping insults at him, but now he was acting as meek as a First Year Hufflepuff. 

Draco stared at him with barely restrained shock. It was as if the entire world was going mad. Next, Skeeter would have a photograph of him snogging Potter if this madness continued, all absurd claims proven true. 

“Tell me what ?”

At Potter’s quiet voice, Draco’s attention shot away from his taunting to the messy haired boy beside him.

“To stop acting like some untouchable idiot and stay away from Karkaroff. You already have the Third Task to contend with, boy wonder. I hardly think you have time for former Death Eaters.”

Again, that stupid, blazing grin lit up Potter’s face. “I can handle myself Malfoy but thank you for the concern.”

“It’s most decidedly not concern!”

“Alright,” still wearing that shit eating grin, Potter opened his Potions textbook. “Would you mind helping me with my essay Malfoy ?”

“Ask Granger.”

“She’s gone off with Ron!”

Draco glanced up, realising somewhere in their conversation, Potter’s friends had abandoned him. He blinked, wondering how he’d completely managed not to notice. It was Potter’s fault, with his irritating smile and his stupid requests acting as if they were friends. They were not.

“No.”

“Snape’s going to kill me!”

“Hallelujah.”

“Please.”

Something flipped in Draco’s stomach and grimacing, he yanked the textbook towards him. “Fine, but then you leave me alone for the rest of the term.”

“That’s hardly fair!”

“A month.”

Potter tapped a finger against his chin, “A week.”

He would take what he could get. “Deal.”

So the two of them sat as Potter painstakingly did his essay, Draco correcting him when he veered off track. They bickered as they always did but it felt surprisingly civil, more of a game than anything real. It was almost pleasant.

“I told McGonagall about the letters,” Potter whispered as he began his last paragraph. “Anything with malicious content, won’t make its way to you.”

He bristled, ready to snap that he did not ask for help but something about Potter’s earnest face, held his tongue.

“Thank you Potter,” he said instead.

Shrugging, he went back to writing in that horrible chicken scratch he called handwriting. Draco watched him for a couple seconds.

“Do you—uh do you know what’s going to be your Third Task ?”

“Something about a maze, defensive spells. Hermione is researching as many as she can and forcing me to learn them. We’ve been practicing in abandoned classrooms.”

“Good,” Draco said and meant it. He hated the wanker but he did not want him to die. The thought alone made an uncomfortable feeling claw at his throat.

“You can join us if you want.”

“Weasley would have a coronary.”

“He’d get over it.”

And then Draco asked the question that’d been badgering him since Potter yanked him from the lake. “Why ? Why any of this charade ?”

“I wouldn’t call it a charade,” Harry set down his quill and levelled him with a look. “We’ve been at each other’s throats long enough that I think we should be getting over it. The merpeople took you and well, I guess that has to mean, you’re important to me or whatever. I’d rather we not act like First Years still.”

Cheeks red, Potter glanced away from him.

“So it wasn’t some inane Gryffindor joke you lot were pulling ?”

“Yes Malfoy, because the merpeople would take you to help us play some master joke. Obviously it was a grand ploy, nevermind that entire Triwizard Competition was playing out. You’re so much more important anyways.”

“Git,” Draco murmured, but he was smiling.

“Friends then ?” Potter arched a brow at him, stuck a hand out. A challenge, clear as daylight.

“Friendly, Potter, not friends. Meaning I won’t harp about how disgusting your hair is,” Draco corrected. “At least, most of the time." 

"And I'm still supposed to leave you alone after this with us being friendly and all ?" 

"Yes, you snivelling shit. I've had enough of your meddling for a while. A week without you will be a welcome reprieve."  

Rolling his eyes but somehow still smiling, Draco reached out and clasped the other boy’s hand in a shake. A handshake that had been three years coming.