PLANS
Harry stands at the bottom of the hidden spiral staircase in an impromtu staring contest with the large golden eagle that guards its entrance. He hasn’t tried to come up with a password yet, even though he feels fairly confident that he could, given enough guesses, provided this world’s Dumbledore has a similar sweet tooth to his own Headmaster and from what he’s seen so far, they are similar in every other way so it wouldn’t surprise him if the password was fizzing whizzbees or something.
The eagle’s eyes seem to glint at him. Harry glares back, rocking his weight onto the pads of his feet and taking a deep breath.
”Are you planning on taking it down with force?”
Harry startles and spins around to see Granger watching him from the the other side of the hallway with a bemused expression.
”You look like a bull about to charge at a red cape”, she adds by way of explanation, as if any part of that sentence would make sense to anyone. ”Right. I keep forgetting. You weren’t raised by muggles… Never mind… Are you going to request a meeting with Dumbledore or not?”
Harry turns back to give the golden eagle an appraising look. He’s aware of Granger striding over to join him.
”Do you want me to come with you?”
”No”, Harry snaps. ”I’m fine.”
”I think I should come with you—”
”What is it with you”, Harry exclaims. ”Seriously, the Granger back home is just the same, always sticking her nose in and her hand up — in lessons”, he exclaims when the girl gives him a confused look. ”To answer the teachers’ questio- you know what, it doesn’t matter! None of this is any of your business, so why are you here?”
”Harry is my best friend”, the girl says with a sharp tone and favours him with a hard look.
Harry deflates a little. He knew that, of course. And he knew she’d be here even if he wasn’t, because she just wants to help. Because that’s the kind of person Granger is, she’s a helpful, goody twoshoes Gryffindor and, as much as Harry hates to admit it, that doesn’t disgust him half as much as it probably should. It’s annoying, but also pretty awesome.
”And I consider you to be a friend now as well.”
”Sorry”, Harry mumbles.
”It’s okay. I know you’re not really mad at me.”
He rolls his eyes. Definitely annoying.
”Come on, let’s just get it over with”, the girl says matter-of-factly and steps forward. ”We wish to see the Headmaster, please.”
The Headmaster is busy, a disembodied voice rings out in the hush of the hallway.
”This is important”, Granger insists. ”It’s a matter of life and death.”
Harry gives her asidelong look. She shoots him a warning glare, then gives his amused smirk a subtle eye roll and shakes her frizz out with an air of importance, favouring the eagle with a stubborn stare.
Nothing happens for at least five long seconds. Harry is about to suggest they come up with a different plan, when suddenly the eagle begins to move. Slowly but steadily it starts to revolve, revealing the spiral staircase behind.
”Come on, Harry”, Granger says, still with her stubborn air of importance and strides over to the staircase and steps onto it.
Definitely also awesome, Harry thinks in amusement and follows her silently.
Granger leads the way to the Headmaster’s office and knocks on the door, pushing it open as soon as the old man’s come in beckons them from the other side.
Dumbledore is standing by the window with his back to them when they enter, the very picture of contemplation. He turns around slowly, his spangle-sleeved arms locked around his back and tilts his head back to gaze at them through his halfmoon spectacles.
”Miss Granger. Mister Potter. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
”Harry needs to talk to you. Professor”, Granger says without missing beat.
”I see”, the old man murmurs, twinkling at them both.
He then holds an arm out and gestures towards the large desk. In the next moment, two high-backed chairs materialise in front of it.
”Please, sit.”
Harry and Granger walk across the room and take their seats, while the Headmaster watches them quietly. There is a hint amusement in his face, but Harry can’t help but think that there is something not quite twinkly about his eyes now. There is a sharpness there, but one of alertness rather than joy.
”Should I be informing any teachers of your whereabouts?” he asks casually, taking the seat opposite them.
Granger shakes her head quickly, ”We have a free period at the moment, Sir.”
”Well that, at least, is reassuring to hear. I wouldn’t want either of you to miss out on any valuable learning, even though I am sure this is indeed a matter of life and death…” he says slowly, and peers at them both over the rim of his glasses.
Granger says nothing, but there is a subtle tint of pink in her cheeks. She sticks her chin out stubbornly and then throws Harry a meaningful look.
”Yeah, right…” Harry mumbles, sitting up a little straighter.
Dumbledore blinks slowly, looking between them calmly. Now that he’s here and has the Headmaster’s full attention, Harry suddenly don’t know where to start. He clears his throat awkwardly.
”Start with your dreams”, Granger says and gives him an encouraging nod.
Harry nods quickly and looks back at the Headmaster. There is a new tension in the old man’s body and the sharp glint in his eyes is now unmistakable. Harry takes a deep breath and begins to talk. He’s aware that some of the tension leaves the Headmaster’s shoulders again the more he tells him, but the alertness in his eyes doesn’t turn twinkly again. Harry feels an odd shiver at being taken so seriously, it makes it all more real somehow.
The Headmaster leans back in his seat and staples his fingers in front of him thoughtfully as Harry begins to trail off.
”So…” Harry finishes lamely. ”We think maybe there’s some sort of connection between us, that they’re not just dreams…”
Dumbledore’s eyes seem to flash for a split second, but he simply nods slowly.
”I agree, that does indeed seem the most plausible explanation”, he murmurs. ”It would appear the two of you are subconsciously linked somwhow and… able to connect with the other’s experiences in your sleep, when your own conscious mind is at rest.”
”Do you think that means I can contact the other Harry somehow?” Harry asks eagerly.
”It’s possible…” Dumbledore murmurs. ”Should the two of you be asleep at the same time, you might be able to communicate with him in your dreams… If not, it might still be possible to get a message to him… I will have to give it some thought…”
”What?” Harry says, dismayed as his eagerness and hope are suddenly extinguised. ”How — how long will that take?”
”Patience, my dear boy…”
”I have been patient!” Harry exclaims, then adds a perfunctory Sir and slumps back in his seat with a sullen sigh.
”I will consult with Professor Snape and Professor Trelawny, and after we have discussed the matter in depth—”
”Why Trelawny?” Harry frowns.
”Can’t hurt”, Dumbledore mumbles.
Harry and Granger both let out surprised chuckles, and Harry nods in agreement. Granger, on the other hand, seems to be in doubt.
Harry leaves the Headmaster’s office with Granger again, feeling more sullen and pessimistic about the whole situation than he did before they entered. Granger on the other hand, has an obvious spring in her step, he notices. Waiting for the grown-ups to discuss things in depth, that could take forever, he thinks in frustration. But trust the gryffindor girl to still have some faith in the adults of the world.
He wonders if any of the adventures of his time at Hogwarts have been mirrored in this parallel world or not, and if some of the same adults that he’s encountered have counterparts here that have come through and inflicted the same amount of disasters upon the school and its students. Because if they have, Harry can’t see why anyone with half a brain would still have faith in grown-ups.
His mind flickers through the worst ones: Quirrell, Filch, Lockhart, Hagrid teaching Care of Magical Creatures, every adult involved in making the Triwizard Tournament happen, half the people at the Ministry, Rita Skeeter, Barty Crouch Junior posing as Mad-Eye and teaching them DADA… Oh, and the worst of them all… Umbridge, he thinks darkly.
Although, a cold voice pipes up at the back of his mind. Is she really the worst?
His chest grows tight as his mind supplies him with images of long platinum hair emerging from underneath a Death Eater mask and a black gloved hand gripping a silver cane tightly, then glowing red eyes emerging from a wall of dark fog, voices screaming in agony and fear… Hogwarts, he scoffs to himself in digust. Umbridge and OWLs, who gives a shit. There is a war coming. I don’t have time for this—!
”Harry? What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, ”Nothing. I just really need to get back to my world.”
”And you will”, the girl responds swiftly. ”Trust me, Dumbledore will figure it out.”
Harry huffs.
”He will. Especially with Professor Snape helping him — now, I know what you’re thinking”, the girl says, holding a hand up to stop him from interrupting, even though he had no intention to. ”I know how you feel about Snape, Harry. But believe me, he might not be the most pleasant of people or the best of teachers…”
What, Harry frowns. What is she on about? Professor Snape is brilliant—
”But he is an extremely intelligent man and if anyone can help us figure all of this out, it’s him and Dumbledore.”
”Yeah”, Harry says slowly, still frowning at the girl in confusion. ”I mean, Professor Snape, for sure, yea—”
”You’ll see”, the girl continues heartily, not really paying attention to him. ”We will get you back to your world, and our Harry back here, in no time!”
Harry nods, but there’s still a tightness in his chest.
When he gets summoned to the Potions Master’s office after his last lesson the very next day, Harry allows himself to feel a sliver of hope that the girl might have been right after all. He packs up quickly and hurries out of the Transfiguration classroom, eagerly making his way down to the dungeons.
He feels a stab of longing as he descends Slughorn’s stairs, wishing he was back in the real world and simply on his way to the Common Room and his friends… But in a way I am, he tells himself, clinging to the sliver of hope from earlier. I am on my way home.
”Come in…” the low murmur of Professor Snape’s voice slithers through the oak door as Harry raps on it, and he immediately pushes it open and bursts inside.
The Potions Master is standing behind his desk, watching him coolly through the curtains of his hair.
”Sir…” Harry greets happily.
The dark eyes glint back at him, but the man remains silent. Harry falters.
”You… sent for me?” he adds tentatively.
”Yesss”, the man says in what is barely above a whisper, then gestures tersely to the chair in front of his desk.
Harry quickly makes his way across the small room and sits down. He’s painfully aware that the professor remains standing, more or less looming over him like an omnious fir tree. He ducks his head to hide the wry smile at that unexpected analogy.
”Something funny?” the man hisses sharply.
”No, Sir”, Harry says and immediately looks up again.
”The Headmaster has filled me on the… latest developments… concerning your… predicament…”
Harry nods hopefully, trying to ignore the fact that the way the Potions Master said predicament, and the way he’s glaring down at Harry, suggests the man thinks this is all some kind of practical joke — aimed at him, most likely.
Harry tries to school his face in his most earnest expression, but it has the opposite of the desired effect, because suddenly Professor Snape has got his hands slammed down on the desk and his face shoved into Harry’s personal space, his dark eyes flashing angrily.
Harry feels the familiar niggle at the front of his mind and knows the older man is burrowing inside to sift through his thoughts. He grits his teeth, but doesn’t try to shield anything or throw the man out.
”You certainly share the disposition, or should I say lack of one, for the art of occlumensy”, the Potions Master sneers.
Harry doesn’t know what that means, but he doesn’t care. Something has just occured to him. Occlumency, he thinks excitedly. Of course. That’s how Professor Snape can help me.
”Is that why I’m here?” he asks eagerly. ”You think we can use occlumency, or legilimency, to contact the other Harry? Sir?”
The other man narrows his eyes in suspicion, but straightens back up again.
”I’ve been practising”, Harry assures him. ”Not since I got here, but before that. I do my exercises every night — well — almost every night, depending on whether Dra—” he stops himself short and feels his face heat up. ”Erm, I mean — depending on — how tired I am. Sir.”
”Is that right”, Professor Snape murmurs. ”Well… Show me then.”
If Snape is shocked to see Harry jump to his feet without hesitation and get his wand out, he hides it well. But when Harry manages to steer him away from the very first delicate memory he comes across when he enters Harry’s mind, and swiftly nudges him towards a boring one of him dozing off in History of Magic, he immediately lifts the spell again and simply stares at Harry. There is unreadable but sharp look in the dark eyes now, a light that wasn’t there before.
He sees me now, Harry realises with a jolt. He sees me, and not the other Harry.
”Yeah I’m not him”, he mumbles, biting his lip to prevent his smile from growing too wide.
”I’m… beginning to realise that…” the older man says quietly. ”Mister Potter, please resume your seat.”
”Call me Harry”, Harry says happily and bounds over to the chair again. ”Sir.”
”Harry…” Snape says slowly, as if getting a feel for the name in his mouth and then slides into the seat opposite him. ”So it’s really true… And you… you were really Sorted into… Slytherin?”
”Yes, Sir”, Harry inclines his head.
The Potions Master seems to weigh his next words, allowing a heavy silence to sink between them before he finally speaks again. He tells Harry that he believes Legilimency is the way to go, if they want to have a chance at getting a message across to the other Harry.
”Ideally, I would like to resume your lessons immediately. But I am aware that we’ve run out of time…”
”Sir?” Harry frowns.
”The school year”, Snape clarifies, his lips twitching in some kind of smirk when Harry slumps in relief.
”What… What does that mean, though?” Harry asks, dread pooling in his stomach. ”You’re not going to help me now because summer hols start in two days? I have to wait until term starts? I have to just — just — be here, with Potter’s horrible muggle relatives, all summer?”
”Calm down”, Snape murmurs.
”I am calm”, Harry retorts. ”All things considered, this is very calm — Sir!”
”I am sure we can come up with an arrangement, so that your lessons won’t have to wait until autumn. However, I do believe you’ll need lessons. Even if you are, undoubtedly, quite adapt at Occlumency already… I do believe that the level of Legilimency required to pull this off will require a significant amount of work… and take some time…”
Harry takes a deep breath, feeling the dread stir in the pit of his stomach as he mulls the information over. But he nods in grim understanding.
”And I should warn you, Mister… Harry… Even if you’re fast learner, it might still take time. You have to understand that several aspects of this operation is reliant on chance alone… For instance, the both of you will need to be asleep at the same time for the connection to even be there… But it also requires Potter’s mind to be open, in order for him to recieve the message on his end… And”, the man adds, looking decidedly sour. ”Considering how inept Mister Potter is at intentionally closing his mind, it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he was equally inept at opening it.”
Harry smiles grimly. That is actually good news, he thinks. Because by now, he feels fairly certain that the other Harry is just as aware of their situation as he is, but more than happy to take his place and stay in his world forever — and why wouldn’t he? Harry thinks bitterly. His life sucks compared to mine!
But if what Professor Snape says is true, and he’s not very good at controlling his mind, then he won’t be able to shut Harry out.
*
Granger’s unwavering trust in the omniscient power of books has Harry sitting in the library at nine o’clock on the second to evening of the school year, when he could be at secret party. The fact that the party is comprised entirely of gryffindors and taking place in the Gryffindor Common Room, makes it marginally easier to miss. Ron had been of a different opinion and bailed on them about an hour ago and went to join the festivities and Granger was so now furious with him that she was no longer talking to him, which she kept informing Harry of at regular intervals.
At some point, through a combination of the dense text in front of him no longer making sense and starting to feel peckish, Harry’s attention begins to wander. And that’s when he notices a flash of platinum blonde in a gap between two boookshelves across the room, that swiftly disappears behind the lower row of books when Harry glances over. He huffs a little in amusement and shakes his head, returning his attention to the gryffindor girl as she, again, grumbles something about Ron.
”It’s fine”, Harry tells her. ”He wasn’t exactly much help anyway, fidgeting and throwing furtive looks at the door—”
Judging by the half-swallowed howl of frustration that Granger lets out, the words that Harry had intended to be reassuring turns out to have the opposite effect.
I don’t get girls, Harry thinks ruefully and slumps in his seat. Another furtive glance across the room tells him Draco has moved a bookcase closer to them and smirks wryly to himself.
The little growls and huffs of frustration that Granger keeps letting out is making it harder than usual for Harry to concentrate on the dense textbook, but he’s pretty much given up on understanding it anyway. Instead, he enjoys watching the lurking blonde’s slow but definite progress across the room through the corner of his eye.
”He is such a complete nincompoop!” Granger exclaims suddenly.
”Oh-kay…” Harry mutters, chuckling.
”I’m sorry, Harry”, the girl intones earnestly.
”It’s fine”, he says wryly.
”No. It’s not. This is your life. It’s all of our lives. We need to get you back to your family and b- erm, and friends — and we need to get our best friend back to us — we should be doing everything we can to help make that happen, but what do we do? One of us is off gallivanting—”
”Gallivanting, really?”
”—and I’m so upset, I can’t even concentrate!”
”It’s fine”, Harry says again. ”Why don’t we take a break for the evening—?”
”No, Harry! We can’t afford to take breaks! WE’RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!”
”We’re not running out of time”, Harry says calmly. ”We have all day tomorrow as well and we’ll be able to be more efficient after a good night’s sleep.”
”But…”
”Also, Professor Snape has promised to help me even after tomorrow, and to be honest, that is probably going to be a lot more helpful than anything that you and I find in an old book, no offense.”
”But…”
”Okay!” Harry adds decisively and slams his book shut. ”That’s it. We’re done for the night. We are going to the party—”
”The party?” Granger frowns. ”Why would you want to go to the party?”
”I don’t, but I think we both need to”, Harry shrugs. ”I’ve read the same paragraph about six times and I still have no idea what I’ve read. We need a break and just going to bed won’t do it, we’ll just end up lying there thinking about it — we need a distraction!”
”I… I guess that makes sense…” Granger says slowly and Harry can tell she’s trying to come up with a way that it doesn’t, even as she speaks.
”Well, alright then”, he says, before she can come up with something. ”We’re going to the party. Why don’t you go on ahead and I’ll put all of these back…”
”Don’t be silly, I’ll help you”, Granger says dismissively.
Catching Harry’s subtle eye movement in the direction of the bookcase Malfoy is now hiding behind, Granger follows it discretely. She spots the left side of the blonde’s face through the Invisibility section before she quickly wips her head around again and pins Harry with a disapproving look. He gives her an innocent one in return.
”Harry…” the girl sighs and rolls her eyes. ”Is this a good idea?”
”I don’t know what this you’re referring to, but if it turns out to be in the realm of bad ideas I will be sure to back out of it…” he intones and gives her a grin.
”Fine”, she says. ”I’ll go get changed into something a little more presentable—”
Harry wrinkles his nose, ”You planning on getting lucky, Granger?”
”—and I will see you at the party. But… if you’re not there in half an hour, I am retreating with a book for the evening.”
”You do know how to live it up—”
”That’s enough cheek from you for one night, mister Potter”, the girl says with mock sternness and he snickers.
”I’m teasing. I’ll come and join you. Twenty minutes, tops.”
”All right…” Granger grumbles and gathers her things to leave.
Harry pretends to read his book for at least five minutes, before Malfoy actually approaches him. It might have taken him longer, if not for the fact that Harry finally looked up and met his eyes, which propelled him to leave his hiding place and snap rather aggressively, ”What the Hell are you smiling at?”
Harry rolls his eyes and goes back to pretend-reading.
A moment later, the blonde sits down opposite him and mutters out an apology.
”That’s fine”, Harry replies pleasantly, then goes back to ignoring him.
He hears the other boy let out a soft sigh.
He hears him let out another, and then a third louder one.
”Can I help you, Draco?” Harry says calmly.
”Don’t call me that”, the blonde grouses.
”Fine. Malfoy”, Harry says pleasantly and closes the textbook again, and meets his eyes with a serene smile. ”Can I help you with anything?”
”Is it…” Malfoy start, but immediately cuts himself off again, squirming a little uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before trying again. ”Is it true?”
”Is what true”, Harry intones in the same serene tone of before, but his amusement fizzles out at the idea that Pansy might have finally told him her theory.
”All of it… what you said… before in Divination?” the blonde says in a small voice. ”You don’t… you don’t hate me?”
”Oh…” Harry blinks in surprise. ”No. No, I definitely don’t hate you.”
”Because we’re — I mean, where you’re from, because of that, which is what you know — you think of me as — as — friends?”
Harry licks his lips, hesitating only for a second. Then nods.
The blonde swallows thickly.
”Just… just friends… right?” he says hoarsely.
”Right”, Harry echoes, ignoring the warning bells going off inside his head.
Malfoy nods hurriedly and looks down at his hands, knotted together nervously on the table top between them.
”I thought so, that’s what I told Pansy…” he mumbles.
Harry says nothing.
Malfoy looks up again, he seems to be weighing his words.
”What did Pansy say?” Harry asks, aiming for casual.
”Doesn’t matter”, Malfoy says dismissively. ”She was just… just having me on…”
”Oh.”
”She does that. I love her, but she can be a real cow sometimes…”
Harry chuckles and nods.
”I wanted to be friends”, the blonde adds quietly.
Harry instinctively leans in to hear him better, but the blonde leans back as if to make sure the space between them remains the same.
”What’s that?” Harry prompts.
”The other Potter”, Malfoy says a little louder. ”I wanted to be friends with him. Back in First Year. I offered to be friends, but he didn’t want to.”
Harry frowns, wondering what the whole story there is. If it was in Diagon Alley in the summer, or on the Hogwarts Express, or later at Hogwarts.
”He definitely hates me”, Malfoy adds, then looks up at Harry with a look challenging him to disagree.
Harry can only shrug. It’s not like he knows how Potter’s mind works, but he’s definitely not Harry’s favourite person in the world — any world — at the moment, so he’s not about to stick up for him either.
”He’s not…” Malfoy shakes his head and seems to swallow a sigh. ”He’s not like you.”
”How do you know?” Harry counteres with a smirk.
”I can tell”, Malfoy says immediately. ”Now I can. I didn’t see it before, because I didn’t know to look for it. But… You’re very different.”
Harry nods. Good, he thinks grimly. I wouldn’t want to be anything like that manipulative usurper anyway.
Silence grows thick between them. Harry fidgets with the textbook in front of him. Glancing over at the large clock above the exit, he sighs.
”Look…” he says. ”I have somewhere to be…”
The blonde nods, staring down at his hand looking extremely dejected and partially lost in his own thoughts.
Not happy ones either, Harry thinks, feeling a pang of sympathy for the other boy.
”Why don’t you come with me?”
The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’s even aware of them forming in his mind. Malfoy gives him a weird look.
”Where?” he asks suspiciously.
”There’s this party…” Harry trails, feeling his cheeks burn as the look on the other boy’s face morphs into scandalised shock. ”Yeah, okay, that was probably a bad idea…”
”Did you just invite me to a party?” Malfoy asks incredulously.
”Okay, okay”, Harry snaps. ”I heard it as soon as I said it, it was stupid—”
”What, in Gryffindor Tower? You just invited me to the Gryffindor end of year party? In the Gryffindor Common?” he sits up and leans into the table, his wide eyes pinned to Harry’s face. ”Me, Draco Malfoy?”
”Oh-kay, al-ready!” Harry says loudly, pleasantly surprised despite everything when the blonde bursts out laughing. ”I wasn’t thinking — stop laughing!”
”You’re insane!”
”Yeaaah yeah…” Harry grumbles. ”Although, I don’t see why it’s that bad… the idea, I mean…”
Malfoy gives him an outraged look, eyes still glittering with amusement.
”I mean, okay”, Harry concedes, lips twitching. ”I’m not going to pretend I think it’s a good idea…”
They both burst out laughing then, leaning towards each other across the table.
”Seriously”, Harry gasps. ”No, seriously — listen —”
Malfoy shakes his head furiously, still laughing helplessly and waves a hand towards Harry’s face, shushing him.
”Listen!” Harry exclaims, feeling giddy from the whole situation, even if he has to keep reminding himself that this is not Draco. ”It’s the last night of the year—”
”Second to last”, Malfoy wheezes, leaning his elbow against the table and propping his own head up, looking the most relaxed Harry has seen him the whole time he’s been in this world.
”Right, but tomorrow doesn’t count”, Harry says dismissively. ”Tomorrow is the Feast and everyone goes to bed early, because the Hogwarts Express and everything.”
Malfoy gives him a nod of agreement.
”So tonight’s the last night of school — so who really cares what House anyone’s in? We — I mean, Slytherin — have our party, the Gryffindors have their party, and I’m sure it’s the same in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, but why? We spend the whole year with these people, why is it such a bad idea to mix it up for once?”
Malfoy is watching him with narrowed, calculating eyes.
”You are a Slytherin”, he murmurs finally.
”Told you”, Harry grins.
”And you’re only telling me all of this, because you want to get into the Slytherin party.”
Harry slumps back in his seat with a groan.
Malfoy points an accusatory finger at him.
”I’m right, aren’t I?”
”I invited you to the Gryffindor party”, Harry reminds him.
”Yeah and you did so knowing I would have no interest in going to a party with a bunch of Gryffindors—”
”Oh come on…” Harry whines. ”I promised Granger I would go, don’t make me go by myself… They’re all weird, I don’t want to be the only Slytherin there… please…”
Harry catches himself leaning over the table top again, batting his eye lashes in a mock flirtatious gesture. Malfoy’s lips twitch a little in amusement, but it’s a delayed reaction and his eyes are gleaming with something that’s not amusement at all.
Another silence spreads out between them, but this one feels less tense and more… Harry tries to put his finger on it. Heavy with anticipation, he decides.
”You know I told you earlier that Pansy was having me on…?” Malfoy says quietly.
Harry leans back in his seat again, but nods. Forcing his face to remain cool.
”She can be such a cow”, Malfoy murmurs.
”Yeah”, Harry croaks and gives a half-hearted chuckle, Malfoy’s eyes narrow slightly. ”I know.”
”But she’s pretty cool… And funny.”
Harry nods.
”It’s not a party without her.”
Harry releases a breath he wasn’t even aware of holding and returns the grin that suddenly spreads out on the blonde’s face.
”Now, you say you’ve promised Granger to go to a party with her, as if that has some kind of significance—”
”Well—”
”I’ll take your word for it”, Malfoy says dismissively. ”Now, I have a question for you… or rather, two hypothethicals…”
”Okay”, Harry grins.
”One: bringing Granger to the dionysian spectacle that is the Slytherin end of year party. Two: unleashing Pansy and myself on the Gobstones tournament that a bunch of slightly butterbeer-tipsy gryffindors considers a party…”
Harry smiles wryly.
”Out of these two hypothethical scenarios… which would be the most fun?”
”How about both?” Harry counters without hesitation.