It’s almost Christmas now   von Ryuuzaki
                      (a drarry christmas.. developement)
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                           Kapitel 1: December, 1st
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“He’s here again.” Hermione whispered.

Harry didn’t need to look up to know who she meant, but he did it anyway. From
his seat he had the perfect view of the table across from them, where the lean
blond decided to settle down. 

This wasn’t a new occurrence; lately Malfoy often chose the same times as them
to study in the library. It was not very surprising, since many of the current
‘eighth’ years could be found studying together in the quiet halls of the
library nowadays, along with the other seventh years.

It actually became rather crowed, but the background noise still was reduced to
the whisper of turning pages, the scratching of quills on parchments and the
occasional exchange of hushed words, albeit multiplied. The reason for this
controlled silence was Madam Pince, of course, who watched the students like a
hawk and kicked out anyone who dared to rise above the allowed
student-noise-percentage immediately. And studying in peace was too important
now to risk it.

His charms essay momentarily forgotten, Harry watched the Slytherin as he took a
seat and took some scrolls out of his bag. 

The thing that was new though was that since the beginning of term, he had never
seen Malfoy walk or speak with anyone else. In fact, he had never even heard him
say a word, except when he was called upon in class, which was very, very rare.
Harry quietly acknowledged to himself that it bothered him, because it was a
very drastic change from the Malfoy he knew before. Back then he had been
arrogant and boisterous in the picking on those he thought inferior to himself,
but the Malfoy he saw now seemed quiet, withdrawn and… lonely.  

Granted, two years ago it all went down the hill for him. But in their sixth
year at Hogwarts, Malfoy at least still had his minions and the other
Slytherins, even though he had been distracted and plotting. Harry had
personally seen what had happened with Crabbe and he’d probably never forget
the look of fear and horror he’s seen on Malfoy’s face when he saw his
friend fall into the flames. Goyle hadn’t even bothered to return for their
eighth year and the Slytherins that did… well they probably gave Malfoy a hard
time because he escaped Azkaban, while most of their parents didn’t. 
The blond has been let off (Harry’s stepping up for him at the trial probably
had something to do with it), but the terms were still harsh. The best part
certainly was that he had to return to Hogwarts for his last year. On the other
hand, he couldn’t choose not to attend and now had to face the hatred of his
former enemies and the scorn of his former friends. Additionally he was also
very limited in the use of magic; only allowed to perform it under supervision
and not more than twenty spells a day, which made practising new spells and
participation in lessons surely hard. There was more, but Harry didn’t
remember all of the terms they’ve read out with the verdict.

Harry had seen the Malfoy struggle for the last three month. Now it was the
beginning of December and he wondered how the blond was holding up. He knew from
experience how difficult that was when being publicly hated or ridiculed, but at
least he always had someone at his side during those times.

And it wasn’t just the limitations on his magic or the occasional verbal abuse
Malfoy had to suffer, but also minor almost daily attacks, though never had
anyone the guts to own up to it. The attacks could be called pranks: A tripping
jinx here, some of his stuff suddenly vanishing there, but it had gotten way out
of hand. Harry kept an eye open whenever he was near and saw it happening, but
the assailants never revealed themselves, just as Malfoy never complained.   
 
Just when Ron returned to his abandoned seat next to Hermione with a decayed
looking book in his hands, Malfoy looked over and his gaze met straight on with
Harry’s. The green orbs widened shortly, as he felt caught, before he quickly
glanced at his parchment, tilting his head forward so his eyes were shadowed by
his hair. Dipping his feather quill shortly into the ink pot he set it on the
paper to write the next sentence, when he remembered he had to think about what
he was going to write first. 

“Hope she’s not going to blame this on me…”, Ron whispered, holding the
manhandled book up to show what he meant, while nodding towards Madam Pince, who
just vanished between the shelves two rows away from them.

Harry nodded to him shortly in agreement before risking another glance at
Malfoy. The blond was already copying things out of a book with a Slytherin
green quill.  

While Harry didn’t notice the growing ink spot on his own parchment until a
few minutes later, Hermione’s hidden smile as she watched him from the corner
of her eyes when he looked over to the Slytherin once more went completely
unnoticed.

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