'Last time I apologized to you, you told me to sod off.'
Harry blinked. He had no recollection of Draco having apologized to him, at any point. His memory of pretty much everything after Draco had told him about his parents, up to the point where Fleur and Slytherin had come in on them, was a blur of shrieking noise, splattering blood, and a white blank buzzing in his head. 'You apologized?'
'Profusely.' The side of Dracos mouth twitched. Harry looked at him suspiciously.
'So do it again.'
'What? Apologize?'
'Yeah.'
'I apologized to you once. You threw in back in my face. The day I apologize to you again, Satan will be ice-skating to work.'
'Why? Didn't your father teach you good manners?'
Draco flinched imperceptibly, even though his expression didn't alter. 'Would it mean anything to you even if I did? If I apologized again?'
'Do you think it's that easy?' Harry felt his anger rise again. 'One word, and it all goes away?' His hands were clenched. 'Well, just to let you know it's not.'
'I know.' Draco took a deep breath. 'What do you want to do then?
Hit me?'
'No I don't.' Harry paused. 'That doesn't hurt enough.'
'You don't want to?' Draco smiled humorlessly. 'I doubt that. If I were you, I'd want to hit me. Sometimes I want to hit me.'
'Really?'
'Yeah.'
'All right, then,' said Harry, and drew back his fist and punched him hard in the stomach.
— Several minutes later-
'Sorry, Malfoy.'
'Urgh.'
'I?m really sorry. I didn?t know you were wounded. You should have said something.'
'Urgh,' said Draco again, and sat up, gingerly. The moment Harrys first had made contact with him, he had turned white, doubled over and dropped like a rock, with his hands wrapped around his stomach. When he took them away, there was blood on his fingers.
Harry had been completely astounded. He hadn?t hit the other boy that hard, had he? He had fallen to his knees next to Draco, who had grabbed him by the front of his robe and told him in very profane terms exactly how much it hurt getting punched in the stomach when one already had a sword wound there, and how, if Draco could actually stand up, he would make Harry very sorry indeed.
Visions of all the punching fights they?d already been in danced in Harrys head. He?d never actually managed to knock Draco down with one punch before. He didn?t feel too good about it at the moment, though.
'So much for hitting me not hurting enough,' said Draco, when he got his breath back, and stopped swearing. 'In retrospect, not an accurate theory.'
'Why haven?t you fixed it?' Harry demanded, absently looping the Epicyclical Charm back around his neck because it was too much trouble holding it in his hand. 'Why walk around with a big cut if you don?t need to?'
'Keeps me honest.' Draco sat up, touched his fingers carefully to his side, flinched, and shook his head. 'My father used to say…'
He broke off, leaning back against the wall as if he were very tired.
'What?' said Harry, curious.
'Nothing.' Draco touched his side again, and winced.
'Something about pain?'
He shut his eyes. Let it go, Potter.
Harry jumped. 'What are you doing, Malfoy?'
Don?t talk out loud. Not that it probably matters, but. I have some things I need to tell you.
Harrys eyes darted around the room. But… can?t he hear us?
Not according to Fleur.
I think I missed the part where I believe anything she says. As a matter of fact, I may have missed the part where I believe anything you say.
Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry tensely. Would I have given you the Charm, the means to kill me, if I wasn?t to be trusted?
You know I wouldn?t use it.
Sure you would.
Harry wasn?t sure whether or not to be appalled. Even if I wanted you dead — that would be a cowardly way of killing anyone.
