Different

potions

Draco was officially the whinest person that Claire had ever met, and she once had to spend a whole afternoon with Dudley Dursley. Madam Pomfrey had given Draco enough potions that he couldn't feel his arm anymore, and it was all wrapped up, but he kept complaining anyways.

"I didn't wait two whole hours for you to do nothing but complain," Claire said, interrupting Draco as he talked about how much his arm hurt. She decided to wait until all of his other friends left before she came over, which took much longer than expected.

"I got slashed by a hippogriff!" Draco reminded her, pointing at his heavily bandaged arm.

"After you taunted it when you knew not to," Claire said. "And you're on so many potions I could punch you and you wouldn't feel it."

"That would just be because you're weak," Draco said with a smirk.

"I'm very strong," Claire lied.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Draco said teasingly. Claire just blushed and awkwardly tucked her hair behind her ears.

"I like your hair," Draco said randomly. If possible, Claire blushed even more.

"You do?" Claire asked. "I always find it a bit of a mess. I never had anyone to teach me how to style it or take care of it, so I just learned last summer when I found some books."

"Father always likes me to have perfect hair," Draco said, a small sneer on his face. "This is my form of teenage rebellion."

"It looks nice," Claire said. "It makes you look much warmer."

"Warmer?" Draco asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Claire said, taking a second to observe him and the colors she was seeing. "Like...red and pink. Warm."

"Don't tell me you see colors or something?" Draco asked.

"Of course not!" Claire lied. "That-that's just what you're like now."

"How come you don't stutter when you're talking to me or Potter?" Draco questioned.

"Oh, I don't...I don't know," Claire admitted. "It's a bad habit I've acquired over the years. I think I don't stutter around people I'm comfortable with."

"Why are you comfortable with me?" Draco asked.

"What do you mean?" Claire inquired.

"I never talked to you in front of others," Draco explained. "That was quite rude of me, not to mention all the other bad things I've done. I'm not exactly a saint."

"I'm not sure," Claire admitted. "I guess I just sense more in you. Like you're different."

"You're different too," Draco said.

"I know," Claire said, embarrassed. "I look different, I act different, I talk different, I-"

"Not that," Draco interrupted. Claire looked at him with wide eyes. "Different like you're....like you're not exactly normal. But in a good way."

Claire pondered what he said for a moment, her mind going back to the sorting hat.

"Can I ask you something?" Claire asked. Draco nodded at her. "Have you ever heard of the Moon C-"

"Mr. Malfoy, it's time for your next potion," Madam Pomfrey announced as she walked over. Claire hurried to stand up, stumbling on the chair and her own feet.

"I-I'll j-just go," Claire stammered. "F-feel bet-better."

Claire was gone before Draco could even say goodbye.