Stand By

The cold winter air whipped angrily by as Malfoy swept into a steep dive. Pulling back up, he soared once around the pitch. He had noticed Harry quietly slip onto the field moments ago, but had been resolutely ignoring him.

    A visit to his godfather had assured him both Snape and Harry had returned alive, though not unharmed. Despite Dumbledore’s urging, Malfoy had avoided visiting the boy in the infirmary.

    Another wide sweep of the pitch allowed him a quick, subtle glance at Harry. He sat curled into himself on the lowest bench, face flushed from the air. Outwardly, there was no sign that he had spent the last three days drifting in and out of consciousness.

    Pausing to hover in midair, Malfoy sighed. He couldn’t ignore Harry forever, no matter how patiently the boy waited. With a gentle nudge, he turned his broom to the ground.

    “Potter,” he sneered in way of greeting.

    “Hello, Malfoy,” Harry smiled slightly.

    “I know I am a sight to behold on a broom, well anywhere really, but I can hardly imagine you came just for the show,” Malfoy sat beside Harry, pulling his broom into his lap so he could look it over for anything that needed to be fixed.

    “So modest,” Harry said. Malfoy smirked in response. “I came about our arrangement. I believe we have a lesson to arrange, do we not?”

    “We do,” Malfoy paused to glance at Harry, “Were you just released from the infirmary?”

    “What does that have to do with anything?” The smirk Malfoy wore faded into vague amusement. “What?” Harry demanded.    

    “Nothing. I just assumed you would need time to recover,” he shrugged noncommittally.

    “We agreed today. I’m fine,” Harry said shortly.

    “Whatever,” Malfoy rolled his eyes as he stood. “Ten tonight outside the empty classroom on the third floor, west hall.” Without waiting for Harry’s confirmation, Malfoy slid back onto his broom, gracefully gliding into the sky.

    From below, he could hear Harry calling to him. He smiled at the outrage and annoyance evident in the voice. Quite pleased with himself, he began a lazy lap around the pitch. Malfoy was quite surprised when the voice abruptly stopped.

    He was even more surprised when Harry appeared beside him, riding one of the school brooms. “Bastard,” Harry growled as he fell into Malfoy’s pace.

    “Did you need something or are you hoping to take a mad dive off that ancient broom and crack your head open?” Malfoy asked, put out by the boy’s presence.

    “I just had a simple question, Malfoy. You don’t have to be a complete jerk,” Harry snapped, “Do I need to bring anything?”

    “Did you hear me ask you to bring anything?”

    Harry growled angrily, “You sound like Snape.”

    “Thank you.” Malfoy smirked, inwardly wincing at being compared to his godfather.

    “Oh shut up!” Harry cried, glaring once at Malfoy before turning towards the ground. Malfoy watched him storm off the field with amusement. Teaching Harry was sure to be amusing, if for nothing else then just to watch his frustration grow with each mock and insult.