Chapter Nineteen
Two days had passed since Harry's panic attack, and still Malfoy hadn't said anything. He was true to his word, which set Harry on edge. Harry honestly thought he might have preferred if the Slytherin boy used the information to blackmail or embarrass him rather than behave like a decent human being.
It was during Defense Against the Dark Arts that his suspicions got the better of him and he ended up asking Zabini about it. Once again Professor Noble had the students dueling, and Zabini seemed to be putting up much more of a fight than the last time. Harry managed to dodge a particularly nasty hex as Professor Noble called for a break.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Harry said, slightly out of breath. Zabini gave him a nod glance but nodded for him to continue as he sat on the edge of one of the desks. "Has Malfoy... said anything about me?"
"By which you mean... ?" He shifted his gaze upwards towards Harry. There was a hint of interest behind his bored expression.
"Just... has he been talking about me?"
"You mean any more than usual?" Zabini lifted a carefully plucked eyebrow. "No."
"What do you mean 'any more than usual?'" Harry questioned, pulling his water bottle out of his bag. It turned out that when he actually tried, Zabini was a force to be reckoned with, and after such an intense fight, Harry was parched.
"He spends quite a bit of his time talking about you." Harry shifted uncomfortably as Zabini watched him, awaiting a further explanation. After a few uncomfortable moments of staring, the Slytherin boy continued. "He does love to complain about you. After all, you do hate each other, don't you?" Although it was phrased like a rhetorical question, something about Zabini's tone made Harry believe the boy was actually asking for an answer. He was about to nod in agreement when something stopped him.
"Well," he started, not entirely sure what he was going to say. Did he hate Malfoy? He thought he did, at one point, but looking back, Harry realized he never truly hated the sneering blonde; he only held an occasional severe dislike. "I wouldn't say we... hate each other. At least, I don't hate him."
"Really?" Zabini said, seemingly unsurprised. Harry felt the need to explain anyways.
"It's not like I want to be mates with him or anything, he's still a git," Harry glanced up, remembering that he was talking to one of Malfoy's friends. "No offense," he quickly added.
"None taken."
"But I don't hate him." Harry shrugged and took a long sip from his water bottle. "Ready to go again?" he asked, sealing the lid and placing the bottle back in his bag.
"Whenever you are." Zabini pushed himself onto his feet and the two boys returned to their fight.
The rest of class passed rather uneventfully. Harry bested Zabini in most of their matches, but all of them were a close call; clearly Zabini was good for more than just posing.
Harry waltzed out of the classroom, Hermione and Ron by his side, and caught sight of Parkinson draped over Malfoy. She rested her chin on his shoulder with her arms wrapped around his waist. Something about it made Harry's blood boil.
Malfoy didn't respond to the contact; he barely even seemed to notice as he was busy talking to Zabini, but he made no effort to push her away either.
"Harry?" Ron nudged him in the side. Harry pulled his gaze away from the Slytherins and ignored the fire blazing in his stomach. "You with us?"
"Yeah, sorry," Harry said, shooting his friends a smile. "Just zoned out for a bit. What were you saying?"
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Harry Potter and The Boy Who Had No Choice
Fanfiction"Face it Malfoy, you're a bloody coward." Harry's smile was gone, replaced by a menacing scowl. While he was talking, he had made his way back to Malfoy, who was now standing in front of him, seething with anger. "I. Am. Not. A. Coward," Malfoy sa...
