Green Eyed Monster | Draco Malfoy

22. The Third Task

Chapter 22: The Third Task

I was oddly comfortable sat at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task, even if I was nervously bouncing my knee under the table. I had wedged myself between Harry and Neville, both of whom had given up on warning me to stop jiggling the table, after having to fish egg out of their hair. After that and realizing even Circe's annoyed glares weren't stopping me, the boys knew there was no hope – though they were kind with trying to get me to ignore the other stares from onlookers. Apparently it was not yet public knowledge that I had made up with Harry, but anything was better than having to sit at the Slytherin table which was bombarding me with whispers and glances. I didn't even want to know where the inspiration for them came from.

Cedric was at the Hufflepuff table, interestingly avoiding Cho Chang's tries to get his attention. And Montague was just as interestingly absent from the Slytherin breakfast table, though Daphne and Theodore had seemed to put differences aside so they could sit together. It looked like they had almost left a seat open for me, but even if I was right with that guess I wouldn't have taken it. They were not forgiven yet.

"What did Sirius send you?" Harry asked me, now that we had taken the time to look over our mail. We swapped cards, which was really just parchment folded over with a muddy paw print on the front of each. Harry's was a sweet card wishing him luck and hoping that he did well with a small warning. Mine read about not being stupid and just getting in and out, this was not my battle – I didn't take it as an insult. I did notice, however, that he knew I was more likely to actually try to prove myself than Harry was. It's not my fault I was that mischievous; which was proven when he made a crack about me being too much like him.

"Cute," I smirked, handing the letter to Ron who offered to put them into his pocket as we were already in our clashing red and green Potter robes. I had just bent down to give Circe some of my ham and pet her when Hermione, reading through the Prophet, let out a loud groan.

"No way, not today. That old cow-" when I leaned forward to look at whatever article had offended her she held it away from me. My eyes narrowed.

"So Rita Skeeter's struck again, has she?" I demanded, trying to swipe the paper from her. She moved it away as quickly as she could, Ron taking the hint and moving it over to his side of the table.

"It's about me isn't it?" Harry asked. "Or is it about Audrey?"

"No," Ron said in the most unbelievable tone I'd ever heard. "'Bout neither of you."

"Mm," I hummed sarcastically. "Of course not. Then you'd have no problem giving it here."

"Actually, I would," Ron said quickly, moving his eyes to Hermione who shook her head minutely.

"You guys are the worst liars I've ever met, how have you made it through all the detentions and trouble you get? Now, pass over the paper or-"

"Hey, Potter!" My glare swiveled toward my own table, like everyone else in the Great Hall, to see Malfoy's long arms waving the Daily Prophet in the air. "Not you Potter, the other Potter!"

My face almost bubbled over in a blush that was completely traitorous – I should not react like this to such a twisted compliment. And it was a twisted compliment. But I couldn't help from wanting to smile from the thought of it: I mean, I'd never been considered the Potter before, or never even the first Potter before. I mean, it was clear why; Harry was the saviour, Harry was the oldest, Harry was the boy, Harry was the golden boy; but to not be the infamously sneered 'other Potter' was almost...flattering.