Soul Mate - Chapter 10:
Harry blinked, staring at Draco Malfoy, who was standing right in front of him,
staring back with those pale, sharp eyes. He couldn’t remember offending him recently.
So why was Malfoy blocking the hallway, wearing that strange expression?
With his arms full of textbooks for revision, Harry really didn’t have time for
whatever nonsense this was going to be.
Draco, however, was in agony. The day before, he had received a letter from his mother,
instructing him to invite Harry Potter to visit Malfoy Manor after graduation.
He had written back immediately, objecting in the strongest possible terms.
But the letter that came later that night made it very clear the decision was final.
He had no choice but to obey.
Merlin knew how much he despised having to do this.
As Draco stood there, mentally wrestling with his pride,
more and more students began gathering around, drawn by the sight.
After the war, seeing the Slytherin prince and the Gryffindor golden boy facing off in the hallway
again well, that was the kind of entertainment no one wanted to miss.
When Draco noticed the growing crowd, his patience ran out.
With a flick of his hand, he cast a wordless Silencing Charm around them.
Then he cleared his throat and said stiffly, Potter,
my parents are very grateful for everything you’ve done for them.
That’s nothing. You probably guessed already that it wasn’t just for your parents,
Harry said plainly. Especially your father. I don’t hate him anymore,
but I can’t say I like him either. I wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble just for his sake.
Draco forced out a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Of course, Potter. But regardless,
you helped my father. Expressing gratitude is necessary.
It’s… noble etiquette.
Oh, there it was again noble this, noble that. Harry rolled his eyes inwardly.
The Malfoys really couldn’t go three sentences without bringing up aristocratic manners.
Fine. I’ve received your thanks, then. Tell your parents I said hello.
The message was clear: Can I go now?
Don’t think I enjoy standing here talking to you, Potter.
Draco lifted his chin, his pride as sharp as his voice.
You think the Malfoys show gratitude with just words?
I don’t expect your foolish Gryffindor brain to understand pure-bl00d decorum.
Harry had the sudden, overwhelming urge to punch him. Calm down, he told himself.
Not the time. If he actually started a fight here, tomorrow’s
Daily Prophet headline would write itself.
Draco straightened, his voice suddenly formal, his movements graceful and deliberate.
Therefore, Mr. Potter, on behalf of my parents,
I extend to you an invitation to visit Malfoy Manor after the N.E.W.T.s.
Harry froze. He’d read enough about wizarding etiquette to recognize this as a genuine formal
invitation. But hearing it from Malfoy the same boy who’d spent six years calling him names
was beyond surreal. And did he just call him Mr. Potter?
Mr. Potter, your answer? Draco’s posture was impeccable, his tone smooth, his face unreadable.
Uh… Harry’s brain was still rebooting. Right… sure.
I sincerely thank you for accepting, and we eagerly await your visit.
Draco bowed once more, his voice perfectly polite. Then, the moment the words were out,
his eyes narrowed and the old disdain returned.
He couldn’t believe he had just performed the most
refined of pure-bl00d courtesies for Harry Potter, of all people.
Only after Draco turned to leave did Harry’s mind truly catch up. He blinked, his green eyes wide.
Wait. No, he hadn’t actually agreed, had he? He hadn’t! That wasn’t a yes.
That was he didn’t even know what that was.
Malfoy, I—
Potter, Draco interrupted smoothly, I doubt our great Savior would be the sort of person to go back
on his word immediately after giving it. His smirk was all satisfaction as he snapped his fingers,
canceling the Silencing Charm. Then he walked away, light as air,
leaving Harry to stew.
And stew he did.
Around them, the disappointed crowd of students groaned. No duel, no fireworks, no shouting.
Just a quiet exchange and some bowing. Boring. One by one, they drifted off,
lamenting how dull peace had become.
Back in the Gryffindor common room,
Harry dropped his stack of books onto the table and sighed.
The sound was so heavy it made Ron, who was half-buried in his own pile of notes, look up.
What’s wrong, mate? he asked wearily.
Malfoy just came to thank me, Harry said, voice calm.
Well, at least the ferret’s got some manners then.
He also formally invited me to visit Malfoy Manor after the N.E.W.T.s, on behalf of his parents.
Proper pure-bl00d etiquette. Very official.
Oh, right. Well, obviously you didn’t say yes, did you?
Ron went back to his book, entirely unconcerned.
Harry said nothing.
Ron froze mid-page and slowly lifted his head again.
Er—Harry, you didn’t… actually agree, did you?
I did.
Ron turned to stone. Hermione looked up immediately, eyes already sparkling with realization.
She could guess exactly what had happened, Malfoy must have blindsided
Harry with all that stiff, formal decorum, and Harry caught off guard had just blurted out a yes.
Think of it this way, Harry, she said gently.
Visiting Malfoy Manor might not be as terrible as you imagine.
Merlin’s beard, you actually said yes to that ferret? Ron gaped at him, speechless.
When?
After the N.E.W.T.s. Malfoy didn’t give a date. He’ll probably send for me when it’s time.
Harry sighed again, then glanced at his two friends hopefully. You’ll come with me, won’t you?
Hermione set down her quill. Harry, it’s not that we don’t want to. But you said yourself
Malfoy used formal noble etiquette to invite you.
That kind of invitation represents the highest respect and honor.
Bringing guests would be considered an insult, a violation of pure-bl00d tradition.
In the Middle Ages, it might even have started a duel.
Oh, brilliant. Harry buried his face in his hands.
Mate, you have my deepest sympathy, Ron said, patting his shoulder.
Fine. Fine. Malfoy Manor it is. How bad could it really be?
Lucius Malfoy wasn’t more terrifying than Voldemort… probably. And besides,
it wasn’t like he had to go right away. There were still months before the N.E.W.T.s.
He’d worry about it later.
With a long, miserable sigh, Harry pushed his doubts aside and dove back into the endless
nightmare that was exam revision.