Coveting Thy Enemy

Chapter 7: Agreement

"Blimey, Harry, what happened?" Ron asked when Harry entered the common room. Harry looked down himself and decided Ron's concern was definitely well justified. Although he had dried out in the hospital wing, his robes were torn to shreds and hanging around him rather limply. He could only imagine how bad his hair looked. Although he wasn't sure it could get any messier than it was any other day.

"I'll tell you after I get a shower. A hot one," he said.

After his shower, Harry returned to the common room and chose the chair that was closest to the fireplace. He couldn't seem to escape the chill that had permeated his being after his cold dip in the lake. He wasn't sure, though, if he was cold from the water or the icy fear that had enveloped him when he watched Malfoy plummet into the black depths of the lake.

Ron must have decided to let Harry have some time to collect his thoughts because they were both silent for a while. Finally, Harry spoke. "Malfoy and I had a little race today."

"Really? What happened? You didn't get into a fight, did you?" Ron asked, fearing that another point reduction was going to take place.

Harry wasn't surprised about Ron's assumptions. After all, it did look as if he had been in some type of brawl that afternoon. He almost smiled; he was in a brawl. His adversary just happened to be a giant squid. "No, no. We raced from the pitch to the lake. Malfoy was pulled into the lake by the giant squid."

Ron wasn't stupid. He was able to put two and two together to get four. "Don't tell me you went in after him willingly?"

Harry looked almost guilty then. "Yea, I did. The squid had a good hold on him. It got a hold on me, too. I managed to Stupefy it, though, and we got away."

His best friend was shocked. Harry could see it written all over his face. This time it was his turn to give Ron time to think. He could almost see the wheels turning in Ron's brain while he tried to grasp the situation that had occurred.

After a few minutes, Ron was able to reply. "I can't believe you saved his life," he said, looking up at Harry in astonishment. "After all he did to you, to us, over the years, you actually saved that git."

"Christ, Ron, no one deserves to die. Besides, I acted on impulse. If it's any consolation, I won the wager."

"It might be. What did you win?"

"Malfoy has to carry my Quidditch gear to and from the pitch for the rest of the year. Matches included," Harry said with a smug smile.

Ron laughed, a loud, jarring laugh that echoed throughout the room. He laughed until there were tears streaming down his face. "Now, that it almost worth your saving his life," he said, slapping himself on the knee.

"Yea it is. Just, Ron, please don't tell anyone what happened today, okay?"

"Why not? That would be the perfect way to rub something in Malfoy's face for once. Wouldn't it?"

"Just don't." Harry wasn't sure why he wanted to keep it a secret, but he did. "You can tell Hermione, but no one else. I really wouldn't want it to get around that I went soft and helped Malfoy. So, if anyone asks, Malfoy's carrying my gear because I won a race, okay?"

"Alright," said Ron rather reluctantly. He seemed to accept Harry's explanation, though, and he began talking about the last Chudley Cannons match Harry only half listened. His thoughts were still spinning in his mind. Why did he want to keep it a secret? Finally, Harry's mind decided upon an answer: Because Malfoy had thanked him . . . again.

Draco put down his Muggle Studies textbook on the table and rubbed his eyes. He never would really understand all that garbage. His father had never taught him anything about Muggles, other than to hate them. It had been three weeks since Potter had saved him. He still felt a rush of astonishment take over his body whenever he thought about it. Why did he save him, his enemy? The only thing he could think of was that he was just Harry Potter. Harry Potter was simply destined to be a hero. He wasn't sure if he liked that idea or not.

Every day Harry had practice, Draco carried his gear. They seemed to have an unwritten agreement that they wouldn't talk about what happened that day, though. So, they didn't talk about anything. Draco carried Harry's gear and that was all. Draco was even more surprised when he realized that Harry never told anyone about his saving him. His housemates seemed to think that he had lost a simple wager, and although, they jibed him about it, they really weren't angry with him. They were used to him losing against Potter. Even Crabbe and Goyle had no idea what happened at the lake. They had asked him why he and Harry didn't finish the race at the pitch, and Draco had told them that he and Potter had decided on a different finish line halfway through the race.

Things definitely had changed. Because of what Potter did, Draco couldn't seem to bring himself to annoy him anymore. Had their rivalry ended? He wasn't sure. He still hated Potter, didn't he? Of course he did. He would always hate Potter. He just didn't hate him as much as he did in the past.. Draco seemed satisfied with these thoughts and picked up his book again and tried to study.

When Harry went to the library that evening, he was surprised to see Draco Malfoy there. Malfoy usually used the library earlier in the day while Harry, Ron, and Hermione used it during the evening. It seemed to be another one of those unwritten agreements that they shared.

He watched as Malfoy flung his book down on the table in disgust and rubbed his eyes. Harry looked at the cover of the book: A History of Muggle Inventions and Their Uses. Malfoy hadn't been lying when he said he was having trouble, Harry mused. Before he knew what he was doing, he walked over to him. "Good evening, Malfoy." Malfoy looked up at him without replying. Harry continued anyway, "Listen, why don't you tell me what you're working on, and I'll see if I can help?" Where did that come from? Thought Harry. Since when do I offer to be of help to Malfoy?

Malfoy was surprised. "You didn't lose any wagers, Potter."

"No, but if you tell me how you got out of your elective and into this one, we could consider it a deal. I want to drop Divination as soon as possible. Maybe I'll take Muggle Studies too." Harry was surprised that he said this. He had been thinking about the switch for some time, but he hadn't realized his brain had already made the decision.

"You're going to willingly work with me on correspondence? Is Divination really that horrible, Potter?" Draco asked. His face was still transmitting confused looks Harry's way.

"Yea, it's definitely dreadful. Anyway, what are you working on?"

Draco opened the book to the chapter he was reading: Electricity: What it is and How THEY Use it. Harry thought it was pretty funny how the wizarding author had emphasized the word "they," but he kept that to himself.

"I'm supposed to read this chapter and write an essay about how electricity has helped Muggles save time. I have to use three electrical inventions to explain my thesis," Draco said.

Harry sat down. "Okay, well let's start with the microwave. . ."

An hour later, Harry was still going over the electric dishwasher when Ron and Hermione entered the library. Ron took one look at who Harry was talking to and saw red. He sauntered over to the table and glared down at the two boys. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry?"

Harry looked up, surprised to see Ron there. He and Draco had been having an okay time discussing electricity. Draco had even let off a few good jokes about alternative uses for some of the electrical appliances outlined in the chapter. "Um, I'm going over electricity with Malfoy," he said.

"I can see that, the question is WHY?" Ron boomed. Hermione quickly placed her hand over Ron's mouth. The last thing she wanted was to be kicked out of her library.

"Well, Malfoy is taking Muggle Studies as a correspondence course, and I figured we could work together since I'm going to drop Divination and take it up, too." Harry said.

Ron looked hurt. "You mean, you'd rather work with Malfoy than take a class with me?" he asked in a rather high-pitched tone. He glared at Malfoy as if he were hoping he'd drop through the floor.

"No, Ron. It's just . . . Well, I'd do just about anything to get away from Trelawney and her unending death prophecies. If you want, maybe you could take correspondence, too." Draco sniggered at this comment.

"Me, purposely take a course with Malfoy? Are you kidding? I'd rather put up with Trelawney, thank you very much. At least she is consistent," he said, looking purposely at Harry. He then stalked out of the room, leaving Hermione there.

Hermione gave a wan smile. "Harry, I'll try to talk to him," she said and turned away. Before reaching the door though, she looked back at Harry. "And Harry, I think it's great you and Malfoy are working together. I really do." She then left the room.

Draco gave a gasp at Hermione's last statement. "The mudblood doesn't mind you working with me." he said. It was a statement rather than a question.

Harry looked at Malfoy; his shackles were rising. "Hermione doesn't hold grudges, Malfoy. And, I'd appreciate if you didn't use the term mudblood around me if you want my help with this class.

Draco looked down and nodded. He then swallowed heavily and replied, "Alright, Potter. I'll try to get along with Granger if you help me with this."

"What about Ron?" Harry asked.

"Well, I'll just have to ignore him, I guess."

"Then, it's an agreement?" asked Harry, looking for dishonesty on Draco's visage. He didn't see any, but Malfoy was good at being dishonest.

"Yea, it's an agreement. As long as you agree on one thing."

"What's that, Malfoy?"

"We are not friends, nor will we ever be," said Malfoy, glaring at him now.

Harry sighed, "That's something I definitely would never disagree with, Malfoy."