Then He Opened His Mouth

Title: Then He’d Opened His Mouth
Rating: PG-13 to start, working to R later
Pairing: HP/DM
Summary: Harry Potter has a “despise-hate” relationship with Draco Malfoy. Slashy goodness will ensue, so if you don’t like slash, don’t bother reading.
Disclaimer: I don\'t own them and I don’t want to. I’m just borrowing them for a bit, but they will be returned, no harm done.
Feedback: Please read and review, but no flames, please!
A/N: Thanks to a wonderful beta and a good (and reassuring) friend, Chark. Any errors left behind will be mine alone. Thoughts indicated by parenthesis.


Chapter One
Shattered Illusions

Draco Malfoy was my destiny. From the first moment I ever laid eyes on him in Madam Malkin’s robe shop, I just knew. He’d had a commanding presence, and I’d suddenly felt myself lacking as he\'d looked down his aristocratic nose at me. And why shouldn’t he? Standing there with Dudley’s second hand clothing hanging loosely from my scrawny frame, I was hardly the kind of boy that he woeverever cast a second glance at. That’s why I’d been absolutely gobsmacked when he’d actually approached me, with an impish gleam in his eyes. I found myself secretly admiring this boy whose clothes fit properly, which spoke of money and parents who cared for him. He was everything I wasn’t, and everything I wished I could be.

Then he’d opened his mouth.

Talk about shattered illusions. The beautiful, blonde boy who’d held so much promise in my affection starved, adolescent imagion turneurned out to be just as bad, if not worse than my cousin Dudley. He’d not only been spoiled rotten, he’d also appeared overbearing,gmengmental, and extremely ungrateful. Oh well, so much for my destiny.

Our paths hadn’t crossed again until nearly a month later on the Hrts rts Express, when the arrogant git (how could I ever have thought him beautiful?) began making snide remarks about my newest friends. Then he’d done the unthinkable. He’d stretched an elegant hand toward me in a gesture of friendship. It was nearly enough to change my mind about him. Nearly.

Then he’d opened his mouth. Again.

It was funny how Malfoy could provoke me, with just the simplest look or gesture. I became a dichotomy of emotions as far as he was concerned. Throughout our first year, I can’t say that we shared even a love-hate relationship. It was more like despise-hate. I despised him, and he hated me. It worked for us; kept us all on our toes.

And so it went.

Near the beginning of our second term, things came to pass that caused me to look at Malfoy in a completely different light. Little did I know that my world would soon be turned completely inside out, and that what I’d thought I’d known as truth was actually a carefully constructed facade. Viewed from a distance, it appeared perfect and blemish free, but up close its many flaws became clearly evident.

I noticed this for the first time when I’d taken the Floo from the Burrow to Diagon Alley to purchase books and supplies for the upcoming school term. Somehow I’d ballsed up, as usual, and managed to Floo into Knockturn Alley instead. I panicked and made my way into the nearest shop, a rather dodgy establishment called Borgin and Burkes. The shop was dark and foreboding, with shelves filled with things like “The Hand of Glory,” bloodstained playing cards, and various other implements of the Dark. Just seeing it all caused me to shudder, but not half as much as I did when I saw that Malfoy and his father were on their way into the shop. I’d quickly hidden and watched as the pair wandered through the poorly lit building. It was then I noticed how subdued Malfoy was in the presence of his father.w muw much he seemed to want to please the man. It became quite apparent to me, however that the elder Malfoy merely tolerated his son. It had been a very sobering realization for me.

The real revelation, however, came later in that day, in Flourish and Blotts. Malfoy was being his usual charming self, giving ‘Mione, Ron, and me some stick, as he did. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the elder Malfoy tap his son on the shoulder with his cane, which caused Draco to stiffen in fear. I’d thought that I’d find pleasure in that subtle rebuke, but then I’d seen the almost imperceptible emotions that played across the boys face. They rangrom rom terror to cold rage, and I swear that Draco actually flinched as if he were going to be struck. It had been enlightening, to say the least. Enlightening, yet very unsettling indeed.

Throughout the rest of that year I began to really pay attention to Malfoy. It was through shadowed eyes that I started really seeing him. What I actually saw went so much deeper than the haughty air of privilege Malfoy preferred to allow the outside world to see. I’m fairly sure that had Draco known just how much I was able to ascertain about him just by stealing cautious glances while he was unaware, he would have taken greater pains to conceal the truth.

And the truth according to Draco Malfoy was that he was an insecure, frightened young man who was just as starved for affection as I was. I had been more fortunate to have such good friends in Ron and Hermione, whilst Malfoy was stuck with the rather repulsive Crabbe and Goyle. Their imperfections aside, at least with them he was able to command the attention he so desperately craved. It seemed to me that Draco was like an empty cauldron just waiting to be filled with attention and love, and I’d found myself longing to be the one to give it to him.

Then he’d opened his mouth. It was the same story, different page.

I’d been truly prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he certainly didn’t believe in making things easy. But then when had Malfoy ever made anything easy? Even \'Mione lost patienceh thh the little ferret face in the wake of the Buckbeak affair. Had I ever really thought him beautiful? I’d begun to seriously doubt it.

TBC