Malfoy and Potter (A Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Harry POV:

"Is there something on your mind, mate?" Ron asks me.

"No. Nothing at all," I respond. The truth is, I'm not really fine. I've been battling with myself and my responsibilities. Why me, I keep thinking, why am I the chosen one? Why can't I just have a normal life? I wish I could just- my eyes widen, realizing what I just thought. No, no, no no. I have a great life, I have friends, I have a home, I have family-

But you don't really have family, right? I voice pipes in the back of my head. Your last family died just months ago. I sigh at this while Ron eyes me weirdly.

"You sure? You sound like you've swallowed a love potion."

"Yes, Ron, I'm sure," I say firmly. "It's just that, well, I've been having trouble with myself."

Ron looks troubled. "What do you mean?"

"I'm having trouble with my identity. Sometimes I think I don't want to be the chosen one. I just want to be normal. Like- not muggle normal, just..." I trail off, lost in my own thoughts. Ron, however, looks more concerned.

"Hey, mate, if you need to talk, you have me. And Hermione. And our other friends, too. Why do you think you're thinking these things?"

"I don't really know. It just feels tiring sometimes."

"You should have more fun. Want to go out together? We can play Quidditch." Ron asks.

"Of course." 

We walk to the changing rooms, and get outside ten minutes later fully dressed for Quidditch. I grab a quaffle, and exclaim to Ron, "C'mon. You can be goalie."

Ron grins, and we take our brooms and fly to the goalposts. Within minutes, I score a few goals, laughing with Ron along the way, but something still feels off. It's like the thoughts are still there, just a little quieter. Just then, I spot Draco Malfoy flying towards us on his Nimbus 2001.

"Hey losers! I bet that I can score more goals then you, and Ron, you can't give Harry easy goals."

Ron sighs, but I smile. "It's on, Malfoy."

I take a quaffle and try to score a goal. Since Ron always forgets to cover his right goalpost, I easily score. Ron groans, annoyed with himself. I look at Draco. He looks....impressed? Huh, I've never seen Draco impressed. Nevertheless, he still looks at me with a smug grin, before taking the quaffle and scoring a goal himself. Huh, I think. This is going to be a long game.

For the next half hour, I spend my time laughing with Draco while trying to shoot goals. I try to shoot with my head, but end up hurting my forehead instead, while Ron and Draco cackled at my performance. 

"You call that a headshot? Let me." He says, shooting with his head himself, but instead, he almost falls off his broomstick while hitting the quaffle. I laugh while Draco looks suprised. "Huh," he says, "Guess we're equally bad." We laugh and laugh, trying to shoot goals with our heads. I manage to score a few goals, and Draco scores a few, too.

The thing is, I've never felt this way in a very long time. I haven't felt like I had no problems in my life since the the end of my fourth year. I've always had this nagging feeling that my list of work to be finished will never be over, at least not until Voldemort is gone. Is it Draco that's making me feel like this? I push that thought in the back of my brain, while I laugh with Draco, thinking one thing.

This is what it must feel like to be a normal wizard.