Second chance

When Harry woke up, it was still dark outside the window. It was only morning, not even breakfast time. It was today that the students of Hogwarts were returning from their winter break, which meant that they would need to explain themselves to Hermione and put the plan with Draco into action. The day promised to be interesting. Harry didn't know exactly what to say to the Slytherin, so he decided to trust his intuition. She rarely let him down. To distract himself from the thoughts going through his head, he decided to do some exercise. He hadn't been in the habit at school, but the working conditions and his advancing old age required Harry to be physically fit. The Gryffindor knelt down on his knees, leaned on his elbows and stood in a plank. The young body was more agile, but untrained, so after two minutes it was already shaking. Deciding that was enough, Harry stood up and bent to his feet. It was very easy, especially considering the boy's small stature and mass. Bending down, he accidentally hit the bedside table, from which a huge book immediately flew down. History of Magic, I think. The folio fell to the floor with a clatter that immediately caused Ron to jump up and wake up. ‘What happened?’ spinning his eyes fearfully, he asked. ‘Sorry, it was an accident,’ the brunet made a sad expression on his face. ‘What are you doing up so early?’ the friend inquired. ‘It's not even eight o'clock yet.’ ‘Sorry, couldn't sleep,’ Harry quipped and sat down on the unmade bed. ‘What have you been up to?’ continued Weasley's interrogation. Apparently he was concerned about waking up in the night after all, though he tried not to show it. ‘I've been exercising. It helps you relax,’ Potter replied. ‘At least it used to relax me.’ ‘Ah, I see,’ Ron muttered. ‘I think I'll get up too. Shall we play a game of chess? And five minutes later they were both already dressed in slightly rumpled shirts, trousers and robes, sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room at a small table by the fireplace. The game had just begun and Harry was already starting to lose. He had only managed to beat his red-haired friend a handful of times in his entire life. ‘Anything special you'll be doing today?’ the latter asked lazily. ‘Yeah,’ Potter stretched out. ‘I've got a few things to do.’ ‘Will you tell me?’ asked Ron unobtrusively. ‘To talk to Hermione and Draco, to make a long story short,’ Harry began his narrative as he was suddenly interrupted. ‘With Draco? Are you serious?’ ‘Of course! He's actually not as bad as you think he is. His behaviour is influenced by his upbringing and his father's pressure. But he's not as cruel and nasty, and he can even be a good friend,’ the brunet said in defence of the Slytherin. ‘So you and him are going to be friends?’ frowned Ron. That prospect was clearly not to his liking. ‘Not really. We feuded during his school years, but he grew into a decent man. Our kids were friends,’ Potter explained. ‘Wow,’ was all Weasley could manage to say. ‘And how do you want to be friends with him?’ ‘I haven't come up with a definite plan of action yet. I'll just talk to him. But I might have to socialise less with you and Hermione then,’ Harry said regretfully. But it was a necessary sacrifice worth the outcome. ‘I... understand,’ Ron muttered somewhat detachedly. ‘Draco is a good man. He's had a lot of bad things happen in his life and he deserves my help,’ the brunet explained his position. ‘I haven't looked at the world in only black and white for a long time, there's a lot of grey in life as well. You can't judge a man without understanding him.’ ‘I never thought of him that way,’ the redhead admitted honestly. ‘I guess you're right.’ ‘Thanks for backing me up,’ thanked Harry's friend. The party ended with Ron winning, which was quite expected. However, Potter could proudly say that he fought back just as hard. It was already breakfast time, so the friends headed to the Great Hall without a moment's hesitation. There were hardly any people in the hall. There were two girls, obviously sisters, sitting at the neighbouring Cogtevran table, whispering quietly about something. At the teacher's table, the professors were drinking tea in complete silence. Not wanting to starve himself, Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table and began his meal. The choice of food was definitely smaller than on school days, but the boy wasn't particularly picky. He took some scrambled eggs and bacon, poured pumpkin juice, and popped a small buttered bun into his mouth. It wasn't much, but it was hearty. The train with the students wasn't due for arrival for another two hours, which meant Harry still had time to mentally prepare for the conversation.