Happy New Year

Chapter 4:Manners

"So, wha're wu don t'day?"

Draco frowned at Harry and wrinkled his nose. "You shouldn't speak with your mouth full."

The Gryffindor raised a brow at that, but obediently finished chewing the bite of omelet that filled his mouth and swallowed before trying again. "I said 'so, what are we doing today?'." Then, he turned to Greg. "Is he always such a stickler for manners or is it something he reserves just for me?"

The larger boy shook his head as he swallowed his own breakfast. "Nah, it's not just you. He's like that with everyone. Unless he's telling us we should be studying."

Potter grinned at the Slytherins. "That sounds like 'Mione."

The sounds of choking could be heard thought the Great Hall and Goyle helpfully patted his blonde friend on the back- hard.

"Stop, Goyle! You're going to break my spine." He scowled at his companions, first the huge oaf beside him and then the blasphemer across the table. "How dare you compare me to that filthy M- Oof!" A large elbow to his side cut off the exclamation before it could get all the way out of his mouth. It gave him the needed moment to realize what he was about to say and who he was about to say it to. The raven-haired Seeker was staring at him, eyes hard, all traces of earlier amusement gone as if they'd never been.

Standing, the boy continued to look at him, sorrow seeming to war with the terrible anger in his eyes.

"Harry-"

"I'm going now. I fear I've lost my appetite." And with that, he left. His stiff back was out the Hall doors before it had fully processed in Draco's mind that he'd blown it again.

"Mr. Malfoy," He glanced back, startled to see Snape standing behind him with an amused look on his face. "It occurs to me that insulting someone's friends is probably not the best way to stay in their good graces. Particularly if that person is either a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor. They tend to frown on that sort of thing. Luckily, they also tend to be swayed with suitably humble apologies."

Nodding pleasantly to his Slytherins, the dark professor made his way up to the head table.

"Ha! We won! Pay up, Creevey! I knew it wouldn't last until New Year's!" Draco turned to glare at a pair fourth year Ravenclaws who'd cornered a scowling Colin Creevey.

"Greg?"

"Hmm?" His big friend was gazing forlornly at the doors instead of paying attention to the commotion caused by the betters.

"I'm going to find Harry. Please deal with these insolent little gamblers."

The Slytherin beater cracked his knuckles and stood, towering over the cowering little brats. It seemed they'd finally grasped the inherent dangers of angering Slytherins. "With pleasure."

Confident that Goyle could take care of those who'd had the audacity to bet on their tentatively growing friendship, Draco pushed away from the table and rose as regally as the pureblood he was. He didn't really understand why something as meaningless as a word had upset Harry, but he supposed he couldn't go around calling Granger a Mudblood unless he wanted to find himself at odds with the Gryffindor again.

Out in the Hallway, he could only stand there, looking lost. His fellow seeker was already gone and the possibilities of his newest location were endless. The night before, when he'd been upset, he'd wanted to go back to the Gryffindor Tower so Draco took a few steps in that direction before stopping again.

That had been after curfew when his only choices were the dungeons and the tower. It was broad daylight now and he couldn't see Harry cooping himself up if he didn't have to.