Harry's POV172Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuOpSz3FbaR
I lay in bed, not able to fall asleep. I glance at the clock. 11:57 PM. Close to midnight. Ron fell asleep hours ago. I choose to go on a walk, to clear my head. I put on my invisibility cloak and leave the dorm. I whisper, "Lumos."
I walk down the hall and go in a direction I've never been in before. I hear light footsteps and turn around. I see a figure in a black cloak. I breath heavily; the figure looked oddly like a Death Eater from far away. I quickly tuck my wand in my sweatshirt pocket.
"Who's there?" I recognize the cold, haughty voice immediately. Malfoy. I pull off my cloak and jump at him. He stumbles slightly and backs into the wall.
"Potter," He says. "Should've known." "Hello," I say smirking. "Did I give Ferret Boy a scare?" I pull my wand back out, so I can see him.
He looks terrible. White-blonde hair ruffled and messy, bags under his eyes, thin, eyes tired and depressed. "As if," He snorts. A weird feeling flows through me... Sad? No. Angry? No. Worried? Yes. He never looked so sloppy.
"What are you doing in the corridor this late?" I ask.
"I can ask you the same question," He responds. "It isn't your business, but I couldn't fall asleep, so I chose to take a walk and clear my head."
I walk towards him slowly. I point my wand light into his face. I see a bruise on his face. "I heard someone attacked you." I say absentmindedly.
"Yeah? So what? Come to finish the job off?" He says angrily.
"No. Are you alright?" I ask. Wait- why do I care?
He seems to be thinking the same thing. "Yes. But why should the Golden Boy care about a Slytherin that doesn't bow down to him?" He asks, tone bitter.
"I thought you heard," I respond. "The Golden Boy cares about everyone. As you used to remind me, I like playing hero."
He scoffs. "You do. But go find someone else to save, I don't need your saving." He pushes past me, but before he gets away I say something that makes him stop in his tracks. For some reason I wanted to clear up the tension, talk to him longer. Only these three, harmless words seem to scare him.
"How's your Mum?"
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