Unconditional

“I’m not into blokes,” he said quietly.

“I never said you were,” Hermione murmured.

“I don’t like Scarhead,” he muttered.

“That one might be a lie.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“How?”

He kissed her.

She pushed him. It took a moment.

“You—you—“

“I kissed you,” Draco said helpfully.

“Why?”

Draco shrugged.

“But… you hate me!”

Draco shrugged.

“I’m a Muggleborn! You think I’m low and dirty!”

Draco shrugged.

“You make fun of my teeth and my hair and you call me ugly!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You have an awful lot of reasons why we shouldn’t kiss each other. All of them are things that are wrong with you. Have some self-esteem issues?”

Hermione spluttered.

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really want to kiss you,” Draco said, and pulled a piece of lint from his robe. “I just wanted to prove to you that I don’t want to kiss Scarhead.”

“Yes, because that’s insurmountable proof, kissing me,” Hermione said angrily. “And besides. I never said you wanted to kiss Harry. I was just teasing you. You’re the one who got defensive about anyone but Harry calling you Ferret, and you’re the one that brought up liking blokes, and you’re the one that keeps saying you don’t want to kiss Harry. If anything, you’re the one with issues.”

And with that, Hermione Granger stormed out of the owlery.

---

Draco scowled all the way back to the common room. Just let Padma try and mess with him now. He yelled at a few first years that they were out past curfew. When they timidly pointed out that curfew wasn’t for half an hour he yelled at them that they were small and had squeaky voices. He felt a little better.

Padma did indeed try to mess with him. “Just don’t, Padma. I can’t handle you tonight.”

“Can’t handle me?” she yelled. “You’re my boyfriend; it’s your job to handle me!”

“I’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend before. Can you tell me, are boyfriends supposed to go around kissing people that aren’t their girlfriend?”

Padma looked so angry Draco wouldn’t be surprised if fire came out of her nose.

“No,” she said dangerously.

“Well then. I guess I’m not doing my job correctly. I quit.” He walked up the stairs, laughing to himself at Padma’s cry of; “You can’t quit, you’re fired!”

---

Draco walked into the library feeling better than he had in a while. Padma was history, and Potter was sure to be angry about kissing his friend. He couldn’t wait to be searched out and yelled at. Perhaps a proper brawl would come out of it. It had been far too long. He opened up a book he had taken from the Anarchist’s Library and began to read with a smile on his face.

Only, nothing came about. Potter was scarce. Which wasn’t surprising in itself, they only had the one class together. But he wasn’t searching for Draco. He wasn’t making any kind of effort. When they passed in the halls, Harry didn’t say a word. It was infuriating. Draco didn’t want to wait until Charms class to have a confrontation with the boy, but also this time he didn’t want to start the fight. It was Harry’s turn. Maybe Potter didn’t want to cause a scene in front of his friends. Draco formulated a plan.

---

It wasn’t stalking, not really. It was just… following at a distance. Draco discontinued that line of thinking rather quickly. It took two nights, but finally Harry shook off his friends and commenced walking, Draco overheard, to the Owlery. Draco did a little jig. What a lovely coincidence. There, at the scene of the crime, Potter wouldn’t be able to contain his furious anger.

Draco walked up the stairs and opened the door. Inside, Harry was standing next to the rows of perches, stroking his white owl and making soft noises to it.

“Talking to animals, Scarface?” Draco sneered.

“Yes. I know she understands me.” Harry smiled without looking up. “Maybe not the words, exactly, but she understands the sentiment behind it.”

“Whatever, weirdo. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that scar must’ve done horrible things to your brain.” He sauntered over to the window and took a kind of joy in standing in the same position he had the other night with Granger.

“Okay, Ferret.” Harry just kept smiling down at his owl and stroking her. Then he fed her a little treat from his pocket. The silence seemed to get very awkward to Draco, but Potter didn’t seem to notice. The prat.

“You know, I expected after I kissed Granger that the Golden Trio would have descended upon me with all the fury of a spurned hippogriff. Is this your way of giving us your blessing?” Draco asked innocently.

Potter stopped cooing. He still didn’t look up at Draco, but he could tell it was in a pointed manner now, instead of simple indifference.

“You did what to Hermione,” he said in a monotone.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I kissed her. What, she didn’t tell you?”

He looked up finally. Draco was pleased to see there was emotion in those eyes. He couldn’t quite tell if it was anger or maybe sadness, or both. The fact that one of his best friends kept this secret must have been distressing to him.

“I don’t believe you,” he breathed. Draco almost couldn’t hear him.

“I don’t lie anymore, Scarhead. I kissed her. Right in this window, four days ago.” Draco couldn’t help but smirk a bit as a look of anguish flashed across Harry’s features.

“Why?”

Draco shrugged. “I felt like it.”

“Why?”

Draco turned all the way around to face Potter and leaned against the wall. It seemed the shock of his friend’s betrayal and kissing the enemy and whatnot had left Potter somewhat incapable of conversation. This was going mighty well.

“You already asked that, Scarhead,” Draco pointed out.

“No,” he said. “I mean, why did you feel like it?” Draco pondered this. “It’s not as though she likes you. She bloody hates you.”

“I’m aware.”

“She thinks your pompous arse exterior is covering up a scared little kid,” he elaborated.

“What? That’s ridiculous. I am definitely not a scared little kid. Where she got that from I’ve no clue—“

“Why would kiss someone who doesn’t want to kiss you?”

“It took her a while to pull away. I’d say she wants to kiss me more than you realize,” Draco spat. This was taking too long. The brawling was supposed to have started already. “Clearly she has something to hide. She didn’t tell you and the red-headed company you keep about this.”

“Yes, she was probably protecting you. Ron would’ve killed you if he knew you kissed his girlfriend.”

“She’s his girlfriend?” Draco grinned. “Excellent. That’s even better than I hoped for.”

Harry shook his head. “You really are a jerk, Ferret.”

“I know. What are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it?” Potter gave him a strange look. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Nothing?” Draco yelled. “And why the bloody hell is that?”

He blinked confusedly. “What should I do about it?” he asked.

“I dunno! Something! Fight me, yell at me, curse me, something, Potter!”

And then Potter did something horrible. He began to laugh.

“Your mum was a dirty jezebel! Your father was a coward! Mudbloods are scum! You’re going to die at the hands of the Dark Lord! Your friends are poor and ugly!” Draco yelled any insulting thing that came to mind. He couldn’t stand Potter laughing at him when he was trying so hard to make him angry.

“You miss fighting me, don’t you, Ferret?” Harry asked when he regained a bit of composure.

“We fight. It’s not a choice, Scarface. It’s just who we are. I’m ice, you’re fire. I’m bad, you’re good. I’m yang, you’re yin. We clash, we fight. It’s in our nature. It’s not that I miss it, it’s just I accept the truth.”

“It doesn’t have to be true,” Harry said slowly.

Draco stared at him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it really does.”

“But you’re not on Voldemort’s side anymore. We have no reason to be enemies.” Harry walked over to where Draco was standing and leaned against the window frame. “In fact,” he said quietly, “I think I’d rather if we weren’t.”

Draco stared, open-mouthed. This was ridiculous. “I don’t give a damn what you’d rather, wanker.”

Harry glared over at him. “No?”

Draco glared back. “No.”

“So I suppose that means I shouldn’t give a damn what you’d rather, either,” Harry said, turning to face Draco with a dangerous expression on his face.

Draco turned to face him, eye to eye. The air bristled with emotions. Punches would soon be thrown, he was sure. “Exactly.”

“Alright then!”

“Alright!”

“Well, alright!” Potter stormed out of the Owlery. Draco cursed.

“Don’t you just walk out on me, Scarhead!” he yelled. He followed Harry down the stairs but when he reached the bottom the other boy was nowhere in sight.