Nothing is what it seems

Author's note:
Thanks for the reviews so far :)
Mega-quick update as it was either this or coursework. And I chose this :D

Hmmm basically just a chapter to establish Draco's state of mind a bit more. I didn't want to write it in his point of view, as I wanted it to have the same kind of flow as the books.

Enjoy.

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It was six days into the Christmas holidays now and Harry had still not started his vast amount of homework. However, it was the day before Christmas, so he figured he would do it in a few days. He had spent the past two days practising his quidditch techniques and reading up on interesting curses in the library. He knew he would regret wasting his time like this, but at that precise moment in time, he really did not care. The majority of his thoughts had been based around Draco Malfoy, Harry’s long term rival. Although he hated him more than he had ever hated anyone, he still felt desperately sorry for him. Harry had regularly checked the marauders map to check on Malfoy’s whereabouts, and apart from hours at a time when he could not be found on the map at all, he spent all of his time in Slytherin common room. Harry supposed that he was visiting his mother when he could not be found on the map.

He glanced at the marauders map for the seventh time that day and saw that Malfoy was now in the library. His heartbeat picked up a pace. It was all well and good while Malfoy had stashed himself away in his common room, but now that Harry finally had the opportunity to speak to him, he had no idea what to say. However, he decided that he ought to take the risk, so stood up and exited the common room through the portrait entrance.

Once he reached the library, he began to feel slightly nervous. It was not the thought of seeing Malfoy that made him nervous, but the knowledge that he might still be fragile. Being a typical male, Harry did not know how to talk about his feelings and did not know what to say when other people spoke about theirs. He pushed open the door and his eyes immediately fell upon Malfoy, who was sitting on a chair, flicking through a book. He did not see Harry.

Harry approached him, still unaware of what he was going to say when Malfoy saw him. He figured he would just improvise. Malfoy turned around. The usual sneer he wore on his face was vacant and he looked merely tired.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked.

“What is with the sudden concern, Potter?” Malfoy asked in return.

“I just…” Harry did not know how to respond without revealing he knew about his mother, “I just haven’t seen you around much lately.”

“Miss me, Potter?” Malfoy asked sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy was one of the most unapproachable people he had ever met. Even when he was trying to be nice to the git, he did not seem to notice.

“Well, it’s not much fun spending days on-end alone, is it?” Harry tried to reason.

Malfoy shrugged. “I’ve wanted to be alone lately.”

“Why?”

Malfoy looked at him. He looked almost frightened, Harry thought. He seemed so vulnerable, and it was completely out of character.

“I just have.” He paused. “So is that why you’re here then? Because your friends aren’t here?” He asked coldly.

“No.” Harry replied honestly. “I’m here because it’s Christmas and it’s not healthy to be cooped up in your common room for days on end.”

Malfoy looked shocked. “How do you know where I’ve been spending my time? Been stalking me, have you?” He accused.

Harry thought quickly. “No, I’m just guessing, that’s all.”

Malfoy did not look fully convinced. However, he seemed to accept the reply because he looked away from Harry as if it was the end of the conversation.

“Are you coming down for the celebratory meal?” Harry asked.

“No.” Was the simple reply.

Harry did not bother trying to argue with him. Instead, he tried changing the subject.

“So what are you doing for the rest of the evening?”

“Why?” Malfoy asked defensively

“It’s called conversation, Malfoy. It’s not supposed to be an interrogation.”

“It feels like one.” Malfoy stated.

“Are you really this stubborn?” Harry asked.

“No.”

“There you go again.” Harry grinned.

Malfoy suddenly relaxed a little. His posture became less erect, and he slumped into his chair slightly, looking more comfortable. Harry took this as a positive sign. He changed the subject to quidditch, a topic they were both passionate about. Malfoy was reluctant to engage in any sort of conversation at first, and Harry found himself seemingly talking to thin air. But in time Malfoy began to engage a little, although Harry still found himself dominating the conversation.

They sat there until it began to get dark. Harry changed the conversation back to the present.

“The celebratory meal starts soon.” He mentioned.

“I told you, I’m not going.” He affirmed obstinately.

Harry laughed. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Being stubborn.”

Malfoy grinned. A few moments subsided and he returned to looking glum once more. Harry was concerned.

“What is it?” Harry asked him, expecting Malfoy to put his barriers up once more.

Malfoy hesitated. “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

Harry was disappointed. He had not expected Malfoy to tell him but had tried asking again anyway. His thoughts were interrupted when Malfoy stood up.

“I want to be alone for a while.” And with that, he left the library. Harry was slightly taken back by his abrupt exit. However, he decided to take the opportunity to look up some information that he needed for his Charms essay. He figured that it was not really work but it would make the essay easier to write when he finally got round to doing it. He browsed the library shelves until he found sound books that he thought would be appropriate.

Three hours later, he looked up from his book. Looking at the time, he saw that it was 10 o’clock. Realising that he had definitely missed dinner, he decided he would go back to his dormitory and get an early night. Taking out the marauders map from his pocket, he checked it, mainly due to habit. He was confused to see that Malfoy was in an otherwise empty classroom a few corridors away from the library. Wondering what he was up to, he picked up the parchment with his research on it and left the library.

Once he had reached the classroom, he opened the door cautiously, not wanting to startle the other boy. He did not immediately see him, so he entered the room, scanning his surroundings. Suddenly he noticed Malfoy sitting on the floor muttering to himself. Harry cleared his throat to make his presence known, but Malfoy did not react. He approached the blonde haired boy sitting on the floor, but he still did not look up. After observing the situation a little more closely, Harry realised why. Clutched in Malfoy’s hand was an almost empty bottle of Fire Whiskey and on second inspection, Harry realised that Malfoy was completely drunk.

He sat down in front of Malfoy and faced him. A few moments later, Malfoy finally noticed him and looked into his face. He looked totally dishevelled and his hair was in a range of disarray, which was unusual for Malfoy.

“Malfoy?” Harry said gently.

“I don’t want her to die.” He said simply. His eyes filled with tears and he said nothing more.

Harry knew that he was struggling to hold it together because of the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed. Instead of trying to encourage him to talk, he just wrapped his arm round his shoulders and comforted him like he was a small child. Malfoy began to shiver violently. Harry suddenly noticed the cold temperature of the room. He had to make a quick decision about what to do. Obviously, he couldn’t just leave him so he decided to take him back up to Gryffindor common room. He couldn’t think of anywhere else where it was warm and where they wouldn’t be seen. He knew Malfoy would be in a lot of trouble if he was caught in this state. Harry was not quite sure why he cared, but he did.

Harry hauled Malfoy to his feet and shifted his arm so that it was round his shoulders so that he could support him. He found that the other boy could barely stand, so it was a struggle to get him to walk. Thankfully, he didn’t have to pull him up any stairs.

Once they reached the portrait of the fat lady, Harry gave the password and hauled Malfoy through the entrance. Malfoy fell over and Harry staggered under his weight. He regained his poise and continued to move towards the sofa in front of the fireplace. He sat Malfoy down so that he was comfortable and asked him if he needed anything. Malfoy shook his head violently and then fixed his glaze upon the flames which were dancing vividly in the fireplace. Harry watched him for a few minutes observing the extent to which the boy in front of him had fallen to pieces over the past few days.

Harry gave Malfoy some water, hoping this would help him to become sober a bit more quickly than he would have done otherwise. He watched as he began to fall asleep and decided he should get him to bed now. After all, there were plenty of empty beds in the dormitory.

“Come on, Malfoy. Bed.” Harry’s voice rung out.

Malfoy stirred. “What?”

“Bed.” Harry repeated.

He pulled Malfoy to his feet and helped him up the stairs. This took a very long time to do, as Malfoy kept sitting down on the stairs and Harry had to keep coaxing him to move. After what seemed like hours, they had finally reached the dormitory.

Harry sat Malfoy on Ron’s bed and tugged at his jumper to remove it. He figured he could sleep in his t-shirt and underwear and take off his jumper and trousers. When he had removed his jumper, he was horrified at what he saw. Cuts ran all the way up to Malfoy’s elbow on his right arm. Harry stared at the cuts with shock.

“How did this happen?” Harry asked tenderly, trying to hide the shock from his voice.

Malfoy looked at him numbly. He simply said, “I can’t stand it,” his voice still very slurred.

Harry found the silence that followed excruciating. He looked into the other boy’s face and watched as his eyes began to fill with tears once more. He was beginning to get an idea of just how much he was hurting.

“But why?” He asked uncertainly.

Malfoy looked at him, his eyes were very unfocused from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he slurred, “Perfect Potter. Always catches the snitch, never does anything wrong.” He was beginning to sway as he spoke. “There’s no point.”

Harry was not sure what he was referring to by the last bit, but decided not to ask questions. After all, he was completely wasted. Instead, he made a ‘shhh’ sound to try to silence him once more and got him into Ron’s empty bed.

Once Malfoy was lying down and had closed his eyes, Harry turned to leave the room so that he could use the bathroom before he went to bed.

“Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” Rang out across the room.

“I’m not leaving. I just need to go to the toilet. I’ll be back in a minute,” Harry gently reassured him. Malfoy seemed satisfied with this reply and closed his eyes again.

Harry sighed. This situation was much worse than he had originally anticipated.