Don't Answer Me

Chapter 2

Harry was waiting in the stands of the Quidditch pitch for Malfoy, who was just finishing up Quidditch practice. They had agreed to meet here while the weather was still decent, as their night in the library three weeks ago had turned into a complete fiasco. Several of Malfoy's housemates had turned up in the library to do nothing but cause trouble, despite the fact that Draco had threatened to report them all for such actions.

Finally, Harry had had enough. He slammed his fist down on the table and looked at each of the sixth year menaces in turn. "We don't want to be here any more than you want us to be, but we haven't been given the choice. Now sod off," he said, reaching for his wand and pointing it at everyone, "before I decide to try some of the new curses Professor Lyddle has been teaching us."

Deciding that Harry was serious, the other Slytherins had left them alone, skulking off to their own corners of the library. Malfoy was looking evenly at Harry, slight confusion written on his face.

"What?" Harry had hissed.

"Nothing. That was just very Slytherin like of you, Potter."

So here he was, waiting for Malfoy in a place where they could get a little more work done. He didn't have to wait long. Draco flew up to where Harry was sitting and dismounted his broom. He had put his quill and parchment in the stands earlier, and picked them up to go over the notes he had made of their last session.

"Let's get started, Potter, I haven't got all night. So last time, I learned that the Dark Lord killed your parents when you were one, and you spent the next ten years with your hideous aunt and uncle in Surrey. Then you came to Hogwarts and the rest truly is history." He sneered. "Poor abused little Potty."

Harry gritted his teeth, but kept his temper in check. "And I learned that Draco Malfoy is the son of two Death Eaters, homicidal maniacs who serve the son of a bitch who murdered my mum and dad. You're an only child, a spoiled brat who has never wanted for anything, and you think that all Muggle born witches and wizards should be put to death. What a role model."

Draco scowled, his gray eyes darkening with anger. "First of all, my mother may be a Death Eater, but to my knowledge she is only one because she has the mark. She is NOT a homicidal maniac. Second, despite what I may have said in the past, I do not think that all Muggle borns should be put to death. I may have thought that before," he paused, looking towards the darkening pitch, "but I no longer do. Everyone is allowed to change their attitudes."

"Right, the son of a notorious killer changing his attitude about Muggles and Muggle borns. That's rich."

"Well, it's good thing that it really doesn't matter what YOU think, Potter. I'm not the same person I was last year." He picked up his wand. "Lumos. Now, what do we need to find out about each other tonight?"

Harry took a deep breath and allowed himself to be less angry about the situation. He just had to get through it, and then it would be over. "What was it like growing up in a powerful wizarding family?"

Draco thought about it, running a slender hand through his hair, which, Harry noted, was longer than he'd seen Draco wear it before, falling to his chin in one length. It was long enough that it had to be tied back for Quidditch practice. Harry slapped himself mentally for noticing this detail.

"It was a good life. My mother loved me, my father said he loved me but I think he really just put up with me, waiting to see how I'd turn out. Since he raised me to believe in the work of the Dark Lord, I don't think I disappointed him too much, especially last year with the special forces squad under Umbridge." He smiled and looked Harry in the eye. "Lucius was pretty bloody happy when he found out I had gotten you in to all that trouble. Anyway, as you said, I didn't want for anything; I still get just about everything I want, and I've learned that if my father says no, there's a reason for it.

"This summer though, Father wasn't around to tell me what to think and how to feel about what was going on, and I found myself having to make decisions about things I'd never had to think about before. I also had time to think about some of the things he and my mother have taught me."

"Like?"

"Well, the whole Mudbl- er, Muggle born thing. Sorry. That's not coming easy. Anyway, why were Muggle borns 'filthy?' They're just wizards and witches born to Muggle parents. Course, I tried to rationalize my old way of thinking until I found a book that contained the Malfoy lineage. Turns out the Malfoy line isn't as pure as Father said it is. It seems that my great-great-great-great-grandfather on my Father's side was a Muggle. So with this small piece of information, I decided that my father was either stupid or a hypocrite. Of course, I decided that on this issue, he's both.

"But that led me to think that maybe he was wrong about other things as well. I had to think about that for a good long time, because it went against everything I'd ever been taught. Then there's the part where I remembered that the Dark Lord had a Muggle father himself. That part gets conveniently overlooked by most Death Eaters."

"So, you turned in to thinking boy, eh?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Oh? Well what about you, Potter? What was it like growing up in a Muggle family who knew what you were and hated that so much that they kept you in a closet all your life?"

'I was in the closet in more ways than one,' Harry thought. "I guess other kids had it worse than I did."

Malfoy lifted an eyebrow. "You're joking."

"Well, the way I see it, I was raised in a home where I wasn't loved, but I knew that I had had parents who loved me more than anything. There are some kids here who were raised by other family members because their parents are lying in St. Mungo's." Neville.

"How is that worse?"

"They still see their parents, and know that even though they can still see them and touch them, they will never really have them. It's the ultimate confusion. I had closure. My parents are dead, and there isn't anything I can do to change it, no hope to get them back because a spell might come along and reverse the damage.

'"But yeah, I lived in a closet until my Hogwarts letter came. I was beaten up by my cousin Dudley and his friends at least once a week. I had to wear his over large hand me downs because my aunt and uncle refused to buy me clothes. I was a freak, and I didn't understand why.

"And I have to return to that every summer," he spat, "because they are my ultimate protectors from Voldemort."

Draco wrote a couple of things down, as Harry had earlier, then paused to think about something. He started writing again, then looked up at Harry for a moment. There was something in his grey eyes that Harry had never seen before. Sympathy? Compassion? It didn't seem possible, but there it was.

"For what it's worth, and I know it may not be worth much to you, Potter, I'm sorry about your parents. I can't imagine what that would feel like."

Harry just stared at him in amazement, then nodded, speechless.

***

**Can you change the things we've said and done?**

***

Hermione stomped out of the empty classroom with a look of murder on her face. She was lost in her anger as she made her way to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the ways she could use this information against Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins. "Riddikulus!" she snarled at the portrait, and the door to the common room opened. She relaxed a little at just being home, but she still stomped over to the table where Ron and Harry were sitting working on their Divination homework.

Ron noticed her bad mood immediately, possibly because she slammed her books on the table so hard that both he and Harry jumped. Harry was wide eyed as he looked at her, and Ron just goggled.

"Uh, bad session with Parkinson, I take it?" the red headed boy asked.

"Oh, no, not bad. Not JUST bad. She is a cow, an absolute COW, Ron!" By this time, most every eye in the common room had turned to look at the trio, but Hermione didn't care. She continued to raise her voice. "She had the GALL to tell me that when she took the Dark Mark, she would come see to it personally that I was destroyed, and that this little 'get to know your enemy' project wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. And that was before we even started working! Than she decided to put a curse not only on my chair, but my parchment and quill as well, so I had to take the time to issue the counter curse so I could work. It's bad enough that we have to do this without her acting like a first year, throwing stupid hexes around so I can't get any work done!" She slumped into her chair and threw an arm over her eyes.

With the end of her diatribe, people turned away and went back to what they were doing, with the exception of some first years who looked like they would cry, they were so afraid of their prefect at the moment. Ron saw them gaping at Hermione, and he gave them a small smile, mouthing, 'It's alright,' to them. One of the small boys smiled back, whispered to his group, and they all turned back to what they were doing before.

"Feel better now?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Well, you scared some of the first years. I'll have to go smooth things over in a bit. I swear, Hermione, why can't you be a good prefect like me for once?" He grinned cheekily at her, and she threw her quill at him. He laughed. "Good, you are better. See, nothing that the good old Weasley charm can't handle!"

At this, Harry threw his quill at his best friend.

Hermione looked at what the other two were working on. "Wow. What does Firenze have you guys doing here? This looks like astronomy homework."

"It might as well be. He thinks that we need the review because we're going to be starting on Centaur star charts soon." Harry said.

"Yeah, it's a lot more work than what that Trelawney bat had us doing, since it's more exact than her brand of fortunetelling," Ron added, "but it's really a lot more fun. And we still get to sit in the grass." He smiled like a little kid, and Hermione laughed.

"Well, so long as you're enjoying it, and I assume no predictions have been made so far about your horrible death this year?" She turned to Harry.

"Not so far. Although it may be because Firenze is so practical, he told me that the wards and spells on the school had been strengthened. No one can get in or out of the place without every teacher in the school, and most of the ghosts, knowing about it. He told me I basically didn't have to worry about dying while I was here, unless of course I really pissed Draco off and he curses me."

Ron wrinkled his forehead. "Draco?"

Harry looked up from his parchment. "What?"

Hermione lowered her head and whispered to him. "You called him Draco just now. You never do that."

Harry hadn't noticed his slip, but he covered it as smoothly as possible. "That IS his name."

"Yeah, but you always call him Malfoy, and usually with a growl. There wasn't even a growl that time. If you're gonna start calling him by his first name, at least growl when you do it!" Ron said.

Harry laughed. "I'll try to remember that."

"Seriously, Harry, that's awfully odd for you to do that," Hermione said.

Harry rolled his eyes at the two of them. "I'll try not to do it again, alright."

Ron and Hermione gave each other a funny look, then Ron spoke carefully. "You, uh, do still hate him, right?"

So there it was. Harry looked at the table and didn't answer for a moment. When he did, it was very soft. "I'm not sure. I've found out some things about him that make it hard to hate him so much."

"Please tell me you're joking!" Ron gaped at him.

"Listen, I know it's odd, but he seems different this year. Haven't you two noticed that he doesn't seem as arrogant as usual? And that he's hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle a lot less? There are reasons for this, and I'm not sure what to make of it all yet. I just find it hard to hate someone who hasn't given me much of a reason."

Ron kept his voice low, but it was excited all the same. "Much of a reason? Have you forgotten..."

Harry held his hand up to stop him. "I haven't forgotten any of it, Ron. But here's the thing. We were asking each other about our childhoods for the project, and when he heard more about mine, he said he was sorry that Voldemort had killed my parents, and that he couldn't imagine what that would be like. So it's not as if he's as heartless and cruel as he was last year, or he wouldn't have done that."

"I don't trust him," Ron grumbled.

"Neither do I," Harry said simply, "but even I can see that there's something going on with him, and if nothing else I have to learn to work with him because if this project. There's no use making either of us more miserable than we already are. And until he gives me a reason to act otherwise, I've decided that I'm going to just relax and be nicer to him."

Hermione smiled slightly. "And here I thought that I was the levelheaded one."

Harry laughed. "Oh, you still are. I've just decided it might be nice for me to be a bit more levelheaded for a change."

***

Saturday morning came bright and clear. It was a nice crisp day, good for staying outside. Harry decided to raid the kitchens, which the house elves helped him with, and take a picnic lunch down to Hagrid's. He knew he'd be there long enough to get hungry, and thought that if he brought lunch, he wouldn't feel obligated to eat whatever concoction Hagrid had fixed that day.

Other than one visit at the beginning of the term, and Care of Magical Creatures classes, Harry hadn't seen Hagrid. He felt bad for slighting his friend, but he knew that Hagrid would understand that Harry had been busy with school projects.

He took a cloak in case it got any cooler, his bag filled with lunch, and made his way to Hagrid's hut. It felt good to get away from the school for a while, and Harry found himself taking his time getting there. By the time he knocked on Hagrid's door, he had a huge smile on his face.

Harry heard Fang barking inside before Hagrid answered. As he opened the door, Fang stuck his huge head in the opening and licked Harry's hand. The sixteen year old laughed and petted the dog's head with his free hand.

"Harry! Good to see you! Come in!" Harry entered the hut, and smiled. This was almost as good as being at the Burrow. "What brings you here today?"

"I had some free time and thought I'd come see you. I'm sorry it's been so long."

"Nonsense," Hagrid replied, "I know them professors have you sixth years working hard. I also know that you have an extra tough project this year."

"You've heard about the Defense Against the Dark Arts project then?" Hagrid nodded. "And do you also know who I've been teamed up with?"

Hagrid nodded again, a bit stiffly. "Draco Malfoy."

"You have heard."

"Yes, but I have it on good authority that you two are doing well. Or at least you're not killing each other yet. I think that qualifies as a good job, don't you?"

Harry laughed. "You may have a point there."

The two friends visited for a long while, then Hagrid offered to cook lunch. Harry pointed at his sack. "I raided the kitchens and brought lunch for us, so you didn't have to cook for me. It's nice out, you want to eat outside?

"Good idea." Hagrid grabbed a blanket, Harry the sack full of food, and they moved outdoors with Fang, who was so excited to be going outside that he started whimpering like a puppy. He ran around the hut a few times, then plopped down on to the blanket by Hagrid's plate to enjoy the sunshine.

"So, Harry, what did you really come here to talk to me about?"

Harry swallowed a bite of his sandwich and looked up at Hagrid. "I came to visit you."

"Well, I know that's what you think, but there's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

"I..." the sixteen year old sighed. "Hagrid, I just have a lot on my mind, and I feel like I can't talk to Ron or Hermione about some of these things."

"Have you had a falling out with them?" Hagrid looked concerned.

'No, no, nothing like that, just... I dunno, it's all so complicated."

"Well, I can't help if I don't know what's going on. But you know, you can talk to Ron and Hermione about anything."

"I don't know, Hagrid. I think there are a few things that I need an adult's opinion on. Ron and Hermione just wouldn't understand right now." He took a deep breath. "Do you think you could forgive your enemy of things that he did to you?"

"Well, I don't know, Harry, I've never thought about it. Is this about Vol- er, him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I could never forgive him for what he's done to me. I mean on a smaller scale."

Hagrid sighed heavily. "Malfoy then?"

Harry nodded and continued. "I've gotten to know him a bit because of this project, and he doesn't seem like the same person who left Hogwarts in June. Even when I've seen him with other people around the castle, he isn't as cocky as he used to be, and he isn't trying to cause trouble anymore." He looked at his sandwich. "The other night when we were working on the project, he said he was sorry that mum and dad were dead, and that I had to live with the Dursley's."

"He did, did he?"

"Yeah. I'm just finding it hard to hate him. Maybe that's a good thing. Hating someone isn't a good feeling, but it's satisfying, if there's a reason. There just doesn't seem to be much of a reason anymore."

"You remember what he's done to you and your friends?"

"Yes. Ron asked me the same thing, and I answered the same way. I remember. But if he's said he's sorry about mum and dad, maybe he's starting to feel bad about the things he's done too."

"Harry, do you think you can forgive him?"

Harry thought about this for a minute, then shrugged. "I don't know if I want to forgive him, Hagrid. Draco Malfoy has hurt a lot of people. He's called Hermione a filthy mudblood, he's made fun of the whole Weasley family, he took Umbridge's side last year against the DA - I really don't want to forgive him, but I'm finding it more and more difficult to hold a grudge against him when I see him acting and thinking differently than last year."

Hagrid looked very serious. "Do you think that maybe he's trying to get on your good side so he can get information from you and give it to his father?"

"I've thought of that, and I just don't know what the answer is." He took a swig of his pumpkin juice.

They sat in silence for a long time, each thinking about what the other had said and eating their lunches. Harry was staring off at the lake when Hagrid spoke again, breaking in to the young man's thoughts.

"What else is on yer mind, Harry?"

'Do I tell him? Do I stay quiet? He's your friend, Harry, you can trust him with this. What if he is ashamed of me after I tell him?' Harry sighed. "There is one other thing."

The giant waited a moment for Harry to speak again. When he didn't, Hagrid put a large hand on the boy's slight shoulder. "Harry? Whatever it is, you can tell me. It'll be OK."

Harry cleared his throat. "Well, you know that I liked Cho last year, and that things didn't work out very well. Anyway, erm, what I mean is... I think I know why we had so much trouble."

"And?"

"Well, this summer, I..." he took a deep breath and plunged ahead, without space between words. "IdecidedthatI'mgay." Harry looked away quickly, afraid to see the look on his friend's face.

Hagrid looked confused. "You just decided that this summer?"

"Well, not really decided in the sense that I decided I wanted to be. More like decided not to avoid it any more. I think I've liked boys more than girls for a long time, and I guess that my problems with Cho were because she wasn't a guy."

Hagrid clapped him on the back gently, the weight knocking Harry forward slightly. "If that's what you want, then I've got no problem with it. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Harry looked at the giant for a long minute. "That's all?"

"Well, you don't want me to be upset with ya, do ya? Because I'm not. I'm not ashamed of ya neither, Harry."

Harry stood and hugged Hagrid hard around the neck. "Thank you, Hagrid."

***

The week passed uneventfully for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry and Ron were behind on homework, as usual, and as usual, Hermione thought it her duty to remind them to not get behind.

In Hermione fashion, as she and the two young men were making their way out of transfiguration on Thursday afternoon, she reminded them of all the studying they had to do that night. They were walking back to Gryffindor tower, since classes were over for the day.

"Now listen, we have to start on the first part of our answers for the DADA project, since it's due Monday, and we have that essay due for Binns in History of Magic, and we need to practice our charms, and..."

Ron turned to her. "First, take a deep breath! Second, Harry and I have Quidditch practice before dinner, so we can't get started on anything right away. We'll work on stuff after dinner."

Hermione twisted her mouth in to a slight frown, but she knew better than to speak against Quidditch with these two.

"I just don't want you two to get more behind than you already are," she said.

"We know." Harry kissed her on the cheek. "We promise, after dinner, we are all yours." Hermione beamed. "But we have to get going if we don't want the captain to yell at us for being late."

Ron, who had been made captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team after Harry's suggestion to McGonagall, cocked his head in confusion and looked at his friend. "You think I'm going to yell at myself? I might yell at you for making me late, Harry, but not at me."

They ran up to their room, and each changed in to their practice uniforms. They grabbed their brooms on the way out, and walked swiftly outside to the Quidditch pitch.

The weather had turned cooler as the end of September approached, and the afternoon had become cloudy after lunch. Now, storm clouds threatened to make this a quick practice, the sky becoming grayer with each passing minute.

"So why did you tell her that we were all hers after dinner?"

Harry laughed at the red head. "Well, we are behind, Ron, and we do need her help with some of this stuff."

"Yeah, but I thought we were going to hang out in the common room and do nothing that consisted of being productive for a while."

The brunette rolled his eyes. "We can do that after we get some of our work done. Honestly, Ron, just because you got Outstanding on most of your O.W.L.s doesn't mean you don't need to do the homework."

Ron grinned. "Maybe you're right. I'll do it for those less fortunate who only managed excellents on everything but DADA, where said nameless person got top marks."

The rest of the team was already gathered when they got to the center of the pitch. Ginny was talking excitedly and gesturing with her hands, something she rarely did. They caught the rest of her ranting when they joined the circle.

"...and I told them that we had already booked the field for practice! I had to pull my wand out and threaten that big one over there with an anti-flying charm before they got the hint. Snape knew that we had the pitch booked for today!" She huffed a little, then shook her head, her ponytail flying. "So we have the field, but not for as long." Ginny, who had been kept on the team as a beater (to replace one of the Weasley twins who were out of school), looked at Harry and Ron. "Goyle tried to tell me that they had booked the pitch for practice before us, but I'm the one who scheduled it with Madame Hooch last week, so I know better."

"So why are the gits sitting in the stands?" Ron nodded towards the Slytherin team.

"Well, you won't believe this, but when I started getting really mad, Malfoy stepped up and said that we could split the time. We could practice for an hour, and then they could practice. And we get to watch each other."

"So we still have to cut our practice short?" Ron huffed.

"Yes, but you're missing the point. Draco Malfoy compromised with us. When has that ever happened?"

Harry shook his head. "I guess we should be happy we get to practice at all. Course, if someone doesn't stop her ranting, we'll waste our time and not get any practice in." Harry smiled at the youngest Weasley, laughter glinting in his green eyes. "Maybe we should get started?"

Ron nodded. "Harry's right. Let's go."

Practice was uneventful, as they had been practicing for almost four weeks and had worked a lot of the kinks out. What Harry was really happy to see was that Ron has lost most of his nervousness when it came to playing in front of people. He may not be the best player, but he was a brilliant strategist, and that's why Harry had suggested his best friend for team captain. It had helped that Gryffindor had won the House cup last year, and they had practiced a lot this summer. Fred and George had even played with them some to help out, going so far as to play pranks to throw Ron off, but the more they worked, the better Ron got as a keeper. So playing in front of the Slytherin team was easier for him, and he made very few mistakes.

At the end of their hour, Ron signaled for them to circle around him on their brooms, and he gave them the closing pep talk.

"OK, we're done for the day. Anyone who wants to sit and watch them practice can do so, I'll be staying to watch myself. Our first game is in two weeks, and I want to practice as much as possible. That that might mean a few morning practices on the weekends." Ginny, not the morning person, groaned, "And yes, I know there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, but I want us to beat Ravenclaw early! So there will be a few morning practices. Alright, that's is. Let's clear the pitch for them."

They flew as a team over to the stands opposite the Slytherin team, who stood as a group, mounted their brooms, and began practicing. Just as they got in the air, the first drops of rain hit Harry's glasses, and the tops of everyone's heads. Ron turned to Harry, grinning. "At least they have to practice in the rain! This is perfect."

"Yeah, but I don't want to sit here and get wet!" Ginny said over the wind. She slid her wand in an arc thought the air over the team. "Umbrellus!" Immediately, the raindrops, which were falling quickly, were deflected.

"Wow!" Ron whistled. "How long have you been waiting to do that?" he asked.

Ginny clapped with delight. "All summer. Hermione came up with it because she thought something like this might come along eventually, and we practiced every time it rained. It works just like a Muggle umbrella."

As the Slytherin team practiced, the Gryffindor team members started analyzing their moves. Ron and Harry had fallen in to a conversation about the other team's keeper, Harry pointing out the ways he blocked the rings. Much to Ron's dismay, Malfoy flew by, blocking his view. He yelled at him as Malfoy hovered in his line of sight.

"Get out of the way, dammit! I can't see!" The blonde Slytherin couldn't hear him over the wind, but Ron felt immensely better for having cussed at him.

"You know, Ron, I do have to watch him since he's their Seeker."

Ron shook his head. "No you don't. You're a million times better than he is, you couldn't learn anything from him."

"You can always learn something from the other team, no matter who it is."

Ron laughed at Harry's sage advice. "We are still talking about Quidditch, right mate?"

"Yeah, but it's good for any situation, isn't it?" Harry grinned.

"Says you." Ron stood. "I give up. We may not be getting wet, but it's still cold. You coming? I'm sure Hermione would love to see us back from practice early. She'll do anything to get us started on our homework." He pouted, and Harry laughed at him. "I was really looking forward to an evening of loafing about."

Harry clapped him on the back and they mounted their brooms. "Maybe if you are really nice to her, she'll let us slack off sooner."

"You mean if I snog with her for a while."

"Whatever works, Ron, whatever works."