Incendium

CHAPTER FOUR: Defence Against Deep Insults

"Alright, boys, I'm off to the library to get some studying done before Arithmancy. I'll see you in the Great Hall in a bit, okay?" Harry and Ron nodded in assent at Hermione’s statement, and Dean and Seamus came up behind them.

"God I hate Potions class," Seamus stated simply as the four of them walked hurriedly from the Potions classroom.

"It would probably be fun if it weren't for Snape... and the Slytherins," said Dean.

"Snape is just a nasty git who takes out all his anti-Gryffindor tendencies on us," Ron said, still seething from the events of the preceding class.

"Fitting, though, seeing as we're Gryffindors," Harry noted with a small smile on his face. The other boys chuckled lightly, and even Ron let his anger waver for a moment.

"He didn't have to take points off just because I didn't have my homework," Ron continued to grumble.

"Especially since Malfoy used a Litura charm to take all the words off your parchment," Seamus added.

"You must be really ticked off, seeing as you actually did your work this time," Dean said, holding back a small laugh. Despite Ron's obvious anger, Dean, Seamus, and Harry had all found the trick quite amusing. Ron scowled at his friends' smirks.

"Still," he continued, "twenty points was excessive for missing homework. He's never taken points from Slytherin for missing their homework, even when their excuses are 'my owl ate it'."

"I did notice he was looking more aggravated than usual today, and his hair was especially greasy," Seamus said in the hopes that it would quell Ron's anger.

"Still... twenty points..." Ron grumbled to himself, fuming quietly as he strode ahead with Harry.

"Don't worry, Ron. Hermione will more than make up for it in Transfiguration class. You should see her essay on making inanimate objects breathe; I'm sure half the words in it aren't even English," Harry tried valiantly to make his friend calm down, but he knew it would take more than winning back House points to make Ron feel better.

"And Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed, continuing a train of thought he had obviously been entertaining during Harry's consolation. "Damn, I hate that slimy git."

"Yeah, he's positively overstepped the bounds with this one," Seamus said with a hidden grin. "I mean, calling your family names is one thing, but erasing your homework..." He let a giggle slip past. "I think we should send him to Azkaban for this one, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. "Be quiet. You know what I mean," he said, sounding a little calmer after some friendly teasing. "We need to get back at him, dammit. This is our last year at Hogwarts... we've got to make up for seven years of pain and suffering."

"Yeah, 'cause our Veritaserum idea worked so well," Dean said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Harry and Seamus chuckled quietly to themselves, but Ron's anger was unrelenting.

"God I wish that had reaped more than a dislike of his Quidditch position. I think it was Hermione's fault. I told her she didn't put enough Jabberknoll feathers in the potion."

"I wouldn't blame Hermione for our stupid ideas, Ron," Seamus said. "Lord knows we'd never have been able to make it ourselves."

"Still..." Ron said with a sigh, "I wish we could find the ultimate revenge. Malfoy is an evil bastard; I can't stand his smarmy looks anymore. He teases us just for fun; it's totally unfair." Harry adjusted his collar, feeling uncomfortable with the vein of Ron's anger. "He's such a sniveling bastard, I'm surprised Dumbledore hasn't expelled him yet."

"Don't say things like that about Malfoy, Ron," Harry said quickly but firmly. The three other boys stopped in their tracks at Harry's words and stared unbelievingly at their friend. Harry stopped, too, but couldn't meet their gazes.

"What?" Seamus, Dean, and Ron chorused incredulously.

Harry continued, fidgeting with his robes. "You can't talk about things you have no experience with." He paused and looked up tentatively; his friends were still looking at him sceptically. "How do you know Malfoy doesn't have perfectly legitimate reasons for doing what he does?" Harry couldn't bear his friends' looks and resumed fidgeting with his robes. He hadn't wanted to defend Malfoy, but something had stirred deep inside him and his sense of justice told him it wasn't fair... it's just not right. They don't know...

"Harry," Seamus said cautiously, "are you defending Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged and looked up again. "Well... I just think... We haven't really given any thought to Malfoy's reasons for doing what he does."

Ron finally found his tongue and snapped, "I know exactly why he does bad things - it's because he's an evil, malicious bastard, too cocky for his own good!"

"He is not!"

Harry's words hung awkwardly in the air, feeling discordant and offensive to all four pairs of ears. Harry's friends stood, disbelieving, staring at Harry and wondering what could possibly have gone awry in his head to make him defend Malfoy so ardently. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down, gripping onto his handkerchief, which he still hadn't washed from the night before.

The silence finally got to Seamus, who made a small, strangled noise before speaking gently. "Harry, I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but I'm sure it's nothing Madame Pomfrey can't fix."

Dean nodded. "Maybe you just need to eat. It's been a busy morning, I'm sure you're just hungry." Harry looked up again. Dean and Seamus looked genuinely concerned for his health - as if there were something physically wrong with defending Malfoy. Ron, however, looked almost betrayed, his eyes thinning suspiciously at Harry.

"Yeah..." Ron muttered vaguely, "let's go."

++++++++++

Ron fidgeted. And he fussed. And he was generally being a nuisance. Hermione glared at him from across the table, hoping he would take the hint. He didn't notice her efforts, and continued to tap his quill on the table and cluck quietly to himself. Harry glanced over at him as well, but without the obvious death glare that Hermione had included. He was worried about Ron. Ever since he had defended Malfoy in the hallway, Ron had barely spoken to him. Granted, it had only been an hour since then, but lunch was usually filled with more lively discussion than "would you pass the peas?". They had found Hermione in the library mostly because of a mutual desire to rid themselves of their awkward silences, but instead only set themselves up for more. Neither Harry nor Ron realized how much they carried their conversations in the library.

Hermione's frustration was mounting, and finally erupted with her standing up. "Ron!" She hissed quietly, now having captured both Ron's and Harry's attentions. "Would you please be quiet! It's difficult enough to study advanced Arithmancy without you tapping incessantly on the table." Ron dropped his quill on the table instantly, as if he had been caught holding a time bomb. "Thank you," she said curtly, and made to sit down again. Before she could, Ron had jumped up to a standing position, surprising all of them.

"Hermione," he squeaked quietly, "can I talk to you for a minute?" Harry looked up at the two of them, and Hermione shrugged and gave him a confused look.

"Certainly." Hermione followed Ron further into the library, casting a look back at Harry. He seemed unfazed by Ron's request, and stared absently at his blank parchment. She and Ron stopped when they reached a small alcove in front of a window, and Ron turned to face her. "Well?" She asked expectantly, her voice returning to normal volume. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You know how you said the other day that Harry has been acting really... weird lately?" Ron began, a concerned look on his face.

"Yes. And I also seem to remember someone telling me off for being such a worry-wart," Hermione said pointedly, crossing her arms. Ron rolled his eyes and decided to ignore her comment.

"Well, I think you're right. There's something definitely wrong with Harry." Hermione was desperate to hear what Ron had found out, considering his tormenting conclusion to their previous Harry-related conversation, but kept her arms crossed and sniffed haughtily.

"Oh? Now you think there's something wrong? And what, pray tell, led you to this stunning and unique conclusion?"

"Be quiet and listen," Ron snapped, and Hermione unfolded her arms in defeat.

"Sorry, what is it?"

Ron ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "We were walking down the hallway after Potions class, grumbling about Snape and Malfoy, when I said something about wanting revenge against Malfoy for his stupid Litura spell," Hermione smirked at the memory of Ron's astounded face as the ink slid quietly from his parchment. She never knew Malfoy was so clever in his connivery. "So, I said I thought he should be expelled for some of the things he does to us, and Harry just went off his nut."

"Off his nut?" Hermione repeated, her forehead creasing in confusion.

"Well, okay, he didn't go off his nut then, he just said that I shouldn't call Malfoy names. He was defending him."

"Defending Malfoy?" Hermione repeated again.

"Yes! And then I called Malfoy an evil, malicious bastard, and Harry just blew up at me. It was really frightening." Hermione looked pensive for a moment, Ron's story sinking in.

"Well, are you sure he wasn't just saying 'Leave him alone, he's not worth the time?', because that seems more like him."

Ron shook his head vigorously, his red locks falling haphazardly into his eyes. "No, he was definitely defending Malfoy. He said we don't know what Malfoy's reasons are and that we shouldn't talk about him when we don't know him."

"Goodness," Hermione said quietly. "That seems entirely out of character."

"I know. I can't think of any reason for him to suddenly defend Malfoy after all of the things he's done to us."

After a moment of quiet reflection, Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's just so random and so... unlike Harry that I can't think of a single reason he would defend Malfoy. Maybe he knows something we don't."

"Like what?"

"I have no idea." Ron looked at Hermione desperately. He wasn't used to her being so stumped, especially at something as simple as Harry's feelings. Ron knew he could be thick sometimes, and he figured he was probably missing something very obvious that Hermione would be able to pick up on. "He punched Malfoy last night," Hermione stated simply after a moment.

"He what?" Hermione recounted what Harry had told her last night, including his cryptic message about not worrying about Malfoy's big mouth. Which, she thought to herself, must have had some ground, as Snape hadn't mentioned anything. "Wow. So that's what that big yellow patch on Malfoy's face was."

"Yeah. Don't tell anyone, though, I don't think Harry wants anyone to know."

"That makes his defence of Malfoy just so much weirder."

"Maybe we should just... ask him." Ron grinned. He knew Hermione was used to knowing everything, and to ask Harry about his feelings probably seemed like a defeat to her.

"Good idea," He said, taking her wrist and pulling her back to the table where Harry sat. Harry was sitting in the exact same position as Ron and Hermione had left him, and he probably wouldn't have noticed their arrival if Hermione hadn't placed her hand on his arm.

"Harry," she said softly, and he looked vaguely up at her. "Are you okay? Ron told me about what happened after Potions class." He glanced at Ron and looked away quickly.

"I feel fine," Harry snapped, looking at the blank parchment again. He heard Ron sigh heavily and lean back in his seat.

"Can you tell me why you were defending Malfoy?"

Harry didn't move his eyes from his parchment. How could I tell them?, Harry thought to himself. He knew that the majority of Malfoy's insults had landed on their heads, especially Ron's, and that they could never forgive Malfoy for that. He didn't expect them to. Malfoy had been mean and nasty to them for seven long years, and the only reason Harry could look past that was that he felt connected in some way to the Slytherin's miseries and knew he deserved a second chance. Hermione and Ron would never be able to give Malfoy a second chance, and if they knew Harry was going to they would feel betrayed and hurt. Hermione and Ron were forgiving people, but Harry couldn't expect them to forget every pain Malfoy had caused them just because he could. Besides, even if he did think they could forgive Malfoy, he knew he didn't want to have to explain the connection he felt with Malfoy - not only were they Malfoy's deepest secrets, they were his as well.

Besides, Harry thought more rationally, they would hurl if I told them he kissed me.

"Harry," Hermione's soothing voice came from his side, and she squeezed his forearm gently. Harry looked over at Hermione with an apologetic look on his face.

"Sorry," Harry squeaked out, "I must not be feeling well. I really didn't mean to defend Malfoy. There must be something else on my mind." He looked over at Ron, who had crossed his arms. Harry knew that both he and Hermione could see straight through his pathetic excuse, and hoped they wouldn't ask him to elaborate. Hermione patted Harry's arm gently.

"Well, Harry," she said in a concerned tone, making up for Ron's silence, "if you ever need to talk about it you know you can talk to us."

Harry nodded, his eyes still fixed sadly on Ron. "Thanks, Hermione."

++++++++++

Harry had left the Great Hall quickly after eating dinner that night. None of his friends seemed to mind, seeing as they all thought Harry was acting a bit strange, but they still asked him where he was going. He had lied to them and said 'just for a walk', but he knew exactly where he was going and who he was looking for.

A small dot marked 'Draco Malfoy' wandered listlessly around the dungeon hallways on the Marauder's Map, and Harry struggled to bring his dot closer to Malfoy's. He wanted to find Malfoy to apologize to him. Once again, Harry's sense of justice had gotten the better of him, and he felt obliged to explain himself to Malfoy. He knew he had pushed Malfoy away at an incredibly vulnerable moment, and he didn't want to keep fighting with him. He knew Malfoy was good somewhere inside him - the kiss had proven that to Harry - and he knew he couldn't stay enemies with Malfoy knowing there were other facets to his enemy's character.

Finally, Harry found a clear path to Malfoy's dot and put away the map. He came up quietly behind the Slytherin and tapped him on the shoulder. Malfoy jumped noticeably and whirled around to face Harry. The surprise on Malfoy's face flickered and then turned into contempt.

"What are you doing down here, Potter?"

Harry winced at the disdain in Malfoy's voice but kept his eyes level. "Looking for you."

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "Why? So you can knock me out this time?"

"No. I wanted to apologize."

"For what? For bumping into me? For punching me? For kissing me? For spitting in the face of some very raw emotions? Goodness, Potter, I never thought you were so generous." The biting sarcasm left a sour taste to the air, and Harry wallowed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, fidgeting under Malfoy's seething glare.

"For all of it," Harry finally blurted, "but mostly the last bit."

Malfoy thinned his eyes some more and folded his arms calmly. "Apology not fucking accepted, Potter. You completely fucked with my mind last night, and I am not about to forgive you for that."

"I was just trying to give you a second chance," Harry said in an unexpectedly plaintive whine.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

"I'm sorry, Malfoy, I really am," Harry wished he would stop sounding so desperate. "I didn't mean to push you away."

"Fuck you, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

"Malfoy, please." Harry sighed to himself, calming his shot nerves. "I want you to know that I understand what you're going through. I know exactly how you feel."

"You said that last night and didn't seem to like my reaction."

"I wasn't really expecting it," Harry blurted, wishing Malfoy wasn't so calm and collected. It made it much more difficult to apologize with Malfoy shooting insults and counter arguments at him all the time. "I thought you'd just tell me to piss off and threaten me against blabbing your secrets to everyone."

Malfoy shook his head in disgust. "You have got to be one of the biggest pricks I know, Potter. You come in saying you're ready to forgive and forget, give me a second chance and all that, but you're just a fucking hypocrite. You don't believe anything but what your little friends have pounded into your head."

Harry winced. "I know. And I'm sorry. I just..." Harry felt his melodramatic side shine through and wished it wouldn't. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. I don't think I could, knowing what I do. It would only be betraying the connection you know we have."

"And what connection would that be, Potter?"

Harry knew that Malfoy was going to milk this confession for all it was worth. "Come off it, Malfoy, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you didn't you wouldn't have kissed me last night."

"That may be so, but I want to hear you say what you think we share now."

Harry glared at Malfoy. He didn't appreciate being extorted so blatantly, but he was stubbornly determined to make Malfoy hear his apology. "We share..." Harry fumbled for words in his mind, trying to find the right ones, "misery, I guess. We have common feelings of pressure and expectation. You feel the pressure of following in your fathers' footsteps; I feel the pressure of being some super-wizard because I'm the Boy Who Lived. For eleven long years before I came to Hogwarts, I spent my life with a so-called family that didn't even acknowledge my existence let alone tell me they loved me. I understand where you're coming from because I know what you're feeling." Harry paused in quiet reflection before adding, "It's difficult, but I think if you have someone to commiserate with it makes things easier."

Malfoy's folded arms slackened a little, but his face remained hard. "And you think we would both benefit from such a relationship?"

Harry shrugged. "You have to admit it's better than crying yourself to sleep every night."

"Malfoys never cry," Draco snapped angrily, drawing himself up again.

Harry mentally rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. It's better than keeping everything bottled up inside."

"True," Malfoy said grudgingly. "So what, exactly, are you suggesting, Potter?" He added after a pause, "Friendship?"

Harry was stumped. For all his agonizing over making this silly apology, he had never really thought about what he wanted to do with their understanding. "I don't know," he answered simply, feeling a bit stupid.

Malfoy unfolded his arms and let them hang gracefully at his sides. "Then come back when you do." He started to turn around, then paused and looked back at Harry. "Oh, and by the way, just so I don't go to sleep with this on my conscience, I'll just remind you that you did kiss me back last night. Also, even if you think you're here because you're being a generous and kind-hearted soul, I think it's because you want something from me. What you want is for you to figure out, but I think you're secretly desperate for another snog." Malfoy's mouth turned upwards in a mischievous smile. "Sweet dreams, Potter."