Chapter 2
They bought it. They actually bought his shitty, half-assed story. Harry grinned as he looked at himself in the mirror, sleeves rolled up and hair wilder than usual.
“So stupid!” He laughed, falling back on the bed. He had retreated into the Room of Requirement, a place he had found back in second year when he was hiding from the basilisk’s voice. At the moment, it was a comfortable bedroom decked out in cool colours. The floor length mirror in front of him reflected his half-crazed eyes, and he smiled sharply at himself. When the door opened, he hastily pulled his sleeves down, whirling around with his wand in his hand and a hex on his lips.
“What on earth are you doing in here, Potter?” Draco Malfoy spat, looking at him incredulously. “Couldn’t take all the Gryffindors chanting your name for killing someone?”
“No, shockingly,” Harry drawled, slipping his wand back into his pocket. As much as he hated the prat, Malfoy was technically his ally now…his father being one of his Lord’s Inner Circle, and all. How annoying.
“But really, why-”
“Maybe I don’t feel like being around people, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, scowling at the blond. “I was just tortured becasue of something I had no control over and i just watched someone die. How would you feel if your housemates were celebrating the fact that you won because the other player was dead?” The prat froze, his mouth agape as the words sunk in.
“I-I didn’t think of it that way,” he murmured, and Harry sneered.
“Of course you didn’t, you selfish brat.” Draco was taken aback by Harry’s sudden mood shift, stepping back. “Just go.” Harry sighed, pointing at the door. Draco sneered, crossing his arms.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Tell me and then I’ll leave.” Harry sighed, flicking his hand. Draco was suddenly shoved out of the room, blustering about ‘what in the bloody hell, Potter?!’ Harry slammed the door, locking it for good measure.
“Bloody weasel,” he scoffed.