Blue [DRARRY]

Chapter 7

  Draco had to wait for a few days before he could really do anything else, but most of him didn't really care much. He thought a few days off would do him good. He already had a lot to deal with with everything else he'd done so far. Professor Snape was still giving him Hell in Potions, and he'd hit more than a few nerves over the course of the week. He'd dealt with even more unannounced charms sent his way trying to understand why his hair was still blue, until finally, someone had put a halt to it by outing the (correct) rumour that he'd used muggle hair dye. After that, he just got wisps of unbelieving conversations that Draco Malfoy would ever touch anything muggle with a stick, let alone permanently alter his hair colour using muggle inventions. It was everything Draco had not to scream in frustration, like it was so hard to believe that through all these changes people were still hooked on his act against muggles and anything less than pure blood. It pissed him off the say the least, and if only to stop him lashing out, he'd begun a list of muggle inventions that he figured the wizarding world should take some inspiration from. He didn't intend to show anyone, but it put his mind at ease.

  On top of this, he'd been hearing constant complaints from his Quidditch team, who were still salty that he'd ditched the team. But the fact of his victory kept them at bay from hexing him - he was still getting congratulations for that one. So perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise of the relief he got when he realised he had to wait until the end of the week before his next course of action. By then, he wasn't being bombarded every minute, and it at least meant he was able to walk across the Hogwarts Grounds in peace, save for only a few glances from Pansy. Draco couldn't comprehend why she looked so sad, for Pansy rarely got sad, but neither said a word to one another. He had to admit it was sort of weird though. Both walking to the same place, yet several yards apart, and refusing to be caught looking at one another. Pansy was many things that Draco had disagreed with silently over the years, but she hadn't known that; she'd had no way to know that. But despite it all, she had always been his best friend. Crabbe and Goyle had rather been goonies than actual friends, considering they didn't really say much and were positively horrific at holding a civilised, and interesting conversation. But Pansy could do that, same as she could also prat around, and it was with her that Draco had had some of the best times of his life. It was with her he'd spent countless late nights just talking, curling up together on the sofa at 3am, and just venting anything and everything they needed to to one another. Draco was certain he knew most, if not all of Pansy Parkinson's secrets, and she definitely knew most of his. It was in neither of their best interests to expose the other however, so Draco could be sure that even if they never spoke to one another again, she wouldn't tattle.

  Of course, Draco hoped, and would continue hoping that they would speak again. He couldn't bear not being close to her, but at this moment in time, with what he had been doing, he just didn't have the strength or willpower to be around her when he had publicly admitted that their opinions were entirely opposites. He missed her, that would more than likely be clear to her, but if it was, she was too upset to mention it. Or maybe she felt the same? Draco hoped so. He didn't want to be the only one feeling so pathetic that he had lost his absolute best friend. It didn't matter that maybe them, and the rest of Slytherin house were the only ones to know that Draco and Pansy were actually capable of having best friends, because what was their opinion when so many of them still judged Draco for actually embracing muggle inventions. Nothing. Their opinion on his friendship was nothing, because their friendship would surely make Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley look like acquaintances. It was Pansy Parkinson who had been the first to find out that Draco found himself heavily more attracted to males, and she had yet to babble that secret, despite her ever proven role as notorious rumour planter. Hell, it was Pansy Parkinson that had helped Draco even realise his orientation. At some point, albeit a time Draco now tried to forget, he had managed to convince himself that he was totally and completely in love with a girl. He still wasn't sure what exactly it was that had enticed the girl to say yes to a date, but it had excited Draco as much as it terrified him. In a last panic the night before, he had practically begged Pansy to help him because he had no idea how to kiss someone, and a Malfoy could not be a terrible kisser. It was against the law or something. Pansy, being Pansy, had been the absolute best person to go to, and Draco's first kiss had been about as good as you could expect when it involved two kids who had never kissed anyone other than their parents in their entire lives. Not. Good.