Please Be There If I Remember

Chapter Nineteen: Laughing

Draco pointedly ignored how his cheeks flared at Potter's anger; the way his stance had changed to something defensive, and how his normally twitching hands stilled and clenched into tight fists. Draco didn't want to think about his hormones ever again, the way they were flaring up so much now.

Curse the teenage body, he thought.

Putting the thought aside like every other uncomfortable one he had in his life, he gazed at Green Eyes and stuck out his hand.

"I swear on my mother's life that no one will ever hear about this place."

Potter stared at his outstretched hand, confused.

"You're supposed to say something similar, then shake my hand," Draco said in explanation at his confused look.

"My mum's dead," Potter said—quite emotionlessly for someone who just stated that they had no mum.

"Oh."

Potter snorted, and Draco joined him nervously to try and get away from the detached sound in Potter's voice.

"Don't worry about it. That was a stupid joke. I kinda forgot that you didn't remember, to be perfectly honest."

Well, that was one way to make the conversation awkward. Clearing his throat to interfere with the echoing silence, he gestured to the two chairs.

"Shall we sit?"

Potter nodded, and before he could move, Draco started forward and rested down on the red, Gryffindor-coloured chair instead of the green one.

"To match my hair," Draco stated easily, lifting his chin up at Potter's shocked look. The boy laughed, the tension diffusing as quickly as it came, and sat opposite him.

The armchair sank down under Draco's weight, making his knees dip below the level of the table so he could slide under it. Green Eyes was on the other side, the table acting like a guard between the two boys, but it was still small enough that you could feel the other person's presence between it. They were both looking everywhere but at each other, taking in the room before them. The fireplace was beating its warmth over the chair onto Draco's head and it made him want to drift off to sleep.

He probably would have if his brain hadn't been overflowing with curiosity.

"Is there a way this is going to work? Or should I just...ask questions?"

"I'm not sure," Potter shrugged. "I was kind of hoping that you would know."

"The whole reason I'm here is to know more," Draco stated, smirking.

"Oh, right. Ok, you can just...ask away, I guess."

Draco could tell he had never done anything like this before.

"Well, I had wanted to start off with something easy, but I keep getting sidetracked by other stuff which I want to know more about. It wouldn't be fair to you, though, to start off with something so harsh, so I'll just stick to my original plan."

"Alright," Potter said, then hastily added, "I mean, I don't mind if you want to ask anything, but I probably won't answer all of it. You're still Malfoy after all. Even if you don't seem the same," he finished, muttering under his breath.

Draco wasn't sure if he was meant to hear that or not.

Shaking it off, he started. "What was I like before?"
"How about we stick to your other idea first," Potter chuckled nervously.

Stumped, he asked a simpler question. "What about you Potter? What are you like? I think it makes more sense for me to learn more about you, then we can backtrack to the other stuff."