Saturday | 8:00 pm | DB Performace | Harry & Draco
It was a very good thing that Draco wasn't crazy enough to take away Harry's hat. Harry was quite fond of his hat. He would have been particularly disheartened by the unsanctioned removal of it. Instead, however, he chuckled, "Well, just in case you haven't noticed, it's not really working, is it?" Repetition hadn't meant anything back at school and it didn't mean anything now. If he wanted to listen, he would have heard it the first time. If he didn't well it wasn't going to be any more interesting the more you said it. Harry was a very straight forward sort of person.
Had he been aware of Draco's inner musings, Harry would have just rolled his eyes. Seemed to be the popular question these days. Why are you talking to that person? Why don't you want more face time? Why did you yell at that reporter? Why aren't you friends with this person any more? Why don't you talk about the war? For Merlin's beard, he wasn't eleven years old any more. His interests had changed, his goals in life had changed, and as for the war? He'd carried that with him for three years, all the while not even sure he'd live to see the end of it. Why the hell would he want to talk about it? Now that everything was over he was quite happy to leave everything behind him. So why did he have no problem standing there talking with Malfoy of all people? For one, Harry was always entertained by the huffy exterior of the youngest Malfoy. The amount of effort that must of went into it was hilarious. Second, he didn't really care one way or another about what Malfoy had done previously or was planning to do in the future. There was something to be said about talking to people you weren't friends with. There was no expectations. He didn't really have to worry about the politics, so to speak.
Besides ... wasn't it habit at this point?
"Right, right, appearances," Harry responded, doing his best to hide the smile he got at that. He half expected Draco to raise his hand and stiffly wave to the crowd like the Queen of England, herself. He debated asking whether or not it ever got uncomfortable having that stick up his arse, but Harry bit his tongue. No point in insulting people so early in the evening. Instead, he focused instead on Draco's confusion.
"You knew immediately who it was," he chuckled, rather amused by the whole thing.