The Rivalry

The other students parted automatically when Draco made his way through the common room. They didn't even have to look anymore, it was an additional survival instinct they'd learned in the four years since he arrived, bodies shifting without thought, moving to the left or the right, bags were picked up and moved and chairs pushed aside clearing the path Draco had chosen. Conversations continued, none daring to engage him, none daring to bring attention to themselves. He felt a body take up rank to his left and another to his right, keeping pace with him quietly. Two smaller ones stood behind him and two large bulky ones made up the rear. The wall moved aside and they walked, slowly and with purpose through the halls, chin parallel to the ground.

They weren't his friends, at best they were his closest associates, and the two he favored most, Blaise and Theo, even they stayed a good two feet away from him as they walked. Because Draco Malfoy wasn't a person. He was a symbol of the elite, the picture of the perfect pureblood heir, the future Lord of a noble house and their soul purpose in associating with him was to cultivate a non-violent working relationship to benefit them when they were older. These were children who wanted the added reputation by being seen with him, or by being remembered as his 'friend' in school. They wanted to have the connection to get spots in the Ministry or use his connections to garner them favours and potential allies. So Draco was all of those things. It was his job. He was to remember names and weaknesses and be The Malfoy Heir at all times, and Draco did and he was and he would continue to be. It came easy to him now, he'd been trained for this his entire life.

He couldn't complain about it, he knew he was lucky to have the money and name and connections and talents that he possessed, he was even smug about it. There were times when it was tiring, being a symbol rather than a person. There weren't many other people who could understand and those who could weren't usually people he was allowed to associate with, not even for the brief moment of shared understanding. It was his job to know everything about everyone and yet none of these people around him knew much of anything about him. The entire school thought he was unfeeling and mean and a snob. He certainly seemed that way, so why should they wonder?

It was utterly useless to think on it, there was nothing for it after all. This was his lot and he had too much class to whine. So he gathered these thoughts and feelings and locked them in to a box that he shoved in to a corner of his mind. He strengthened his walls and cleared his mask and he walked to the doors of the great hall- and stopped. And stared.

There was Potter, in his pajamas of all things, and they were horrid. Too large and faded and he looked ridiculous. The small Gryffindor stood on side of his house table, across from the group he normally sat with. The entire tables was filled, where there wasn't a person sitting there were book-bags or piles of books or conveniently placed feet. No one moved.

Potter wasn't looking at them though, he was staring directly at Longbottom, Finnegan, Thomas, Granger and Weasley.

"Very funny. Locking me in the dorm. Can I sit and eat please? I'll leave when I'm done."

"I think it's obvious if you're wanted here or not." That was the Weasel.

Granger's cheeks reddened, Draco could see it from here, she turned to Potter apologetically. "He's not being serious."

"Are you being serious?" Lavender Brown simpered, arm attached to the ginger.

"Actually, I was being serious." He leaned over the table, staring up at Potter. "You're not wanted here."

Potter's face looked like it was on fire. The other houses were staring. One of the Patil twins, who'd taken to sitting with her sister at the Gryffindor table during meals, looked embarrassed but she didn't say anything, her sister looked like she wanted to crawl underneath the table for Potter and hide. That's what the boy certainly looked like he wanted to do. The rest of them were staring at their plates or their hands or the ceiling. Someone snickered. Then another. The picture of humiliation for one entire moment, a mask slipped into place for Potter. The boy turned and left out of the hall, very quickly. Granger stood and chased after him.

The Gryffindor table burst into laughter.

Draco stood there watching, far more surprised than his impassive face would ever hint at. He nodded at Theo who nodded back and led the rest of the group to the table. He knew, rationally, that it wasn't his place. He wasn't friends with Potter, they hardly went a day without fighting, with magic or otherwise. They had their conversations, secret ones, but they never brought them up after they happened. Regardless his feet turned and he was following after the to lions. Eventually he heard voices down a narrow hall. There in the middle he could see Granger just barely in the shadows talking into a small cut-out supply closet. No doubt Potter had taken refuge there to try and be alone. Granger didn't seem to care what Potter wanted, if what she was saying was anything to go by.

"You brought this on yourself you know. You painted a big red target on your back, you really have no right to be so surprised they shot an arrow at it. You know what you need to do don't you? I know they shouldn't have done that and Ron really shouldn't have said...what he said." She winced. "If you want to fix this you're just going to have to suck up this bit of rebellion, whatever the cause of it, and go make amends. Laugh at their jokes. Insult Malfoy. Defend Ron. Agree with them. You're going through something right now, I suppose, but the rest of the world doesn't care to wait around for you to have an attitude adjustment and people like Ron don't have the patience. He will never admit to being wrong Harry, certainly not like this. You're not making it easy for him. So...so just suck it up. This is your life. You need to smile and get with the program."

Draco leaned to the side to see Potter sitting with his arms wrapped around his legs, chin on his knees, eyes on the floor. "Be careful friend. I don't know if I'm prepared to forgive myself if I have to hurt you back."

"Hurt me back? How am I hurting you?"

"You're killing me with a smile and good intentions," Green orbs looked up at her through inky bangs, "did you know?"

Granger was taken aback. "What?"

"You tell me it's for my own good. You think you know me better than I know myself and you think being my friend gives you the right to make my choices for me and to know my secrets and tell me what to do. You're forcing me to be someone I'm not and to hide the person I am on the inside. It's a subtle sort of murder but it's killing me all the same."

The brown haired girl looked distraught now. Guilt didn't sit well with her, Draco thought.

"Don't think about it too much if you can't stomach it. Everyone else is killing me too."

She didn't know what else to say to that, because she asked a question instead of countering Potter's claim.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Granger's voice rough and low.

"Because, said Potter, "sometimes we have to dare to be ourselves, no matter how frightening or strange that self may prove to be. Both in my case."

"I hope it's worth it." She probably meant it.

Granger turned and walked down the hall. Draco stepped back and let her pass, letting out a breath when his presence went un-noticed.

"Malfoy?" Or not.

Draco took a step forward into the limited light of the only candle along this hallway. Potter sat just as he had before, to the right of the small supply cupboard, on the floor. His pajamas were probably getting really dirty now. Not that it made much of a difference with clothes like that.

Potter looked up at him. "It's strange I guess. They're my friends. But everything I'd like to talk about I can't say to them. I feel so separate, like I've touched something that's taken all the colours out of these things I used to belong to. I can't even pretend to see them anymore."

Draco took that as an invitation and stepped forward into the storage cupboard. It was very small, it was good Potter was as well. Draco could barely stand upright in it. "How do you feel about that?" He asked, feeling like a mind healer. He was a bit out of his depth here. Malfoy training didn't include consoling rivals.

"I'm wondering if it's best if you don't have anyone you care about. Then there isn't anyone to hurt you, is there? You don't have to be afraid of losing someone if you haven't anyone to lose."

Draco slid down the wall across from him, knees bent in the small space. "Yes. But then you have nothing."

"That's what I had to being with. It's comfortable. I don't know that I mind going back."

"You do mind. If you didn't you would have done it the first time you had the opportunity. You would have certainly done it second year. But you didn't, you chose to keep caring. There must have been some reason. You must have thought it was worth it." Draco tried. He was a little alarmed.

"It isn't that I thought it was worth it, it's that I wasn't willing to go back to nothing. This pain was something, even if it was pain, and anything was better than nothing. But now...now I miss nothing. I don't want to hurt anymore."

"Nothing is over-rated. It keeps your head clear and it keeps people at a distance but you'll never be happy. You can't be happy when you have nothing. Awards and galleons and large houses with empty rooms can never fill the spaces inside of us that ache against our will. Some of us choose this path. You don't have to be one of them."

He shifted, looking away from Draco. "You seem fine with it."

Draco stared. "What."

"You're enveloped in ice Draco. Even if someone wanted in, they'd have to dig through layers of solid ice. It's been there so long I wonder if you've ever known a day without it. The walls of ice." Hesitant eyes met his face.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

He put a small tan hand on Draco's arm, looking away again. "Yes I do. I can see it. You've been this way since the day I met you."

Draco forced a laugh. "You sound so reasonable for someone who's just been thrown out of their house and ridiculed in front of the school. Why don't you get angry? You should hit a wall or something."

"I did."

He swallowed. "Ah, my walls of ice you mean."

Potter nodded.

And then Draco felt the start of a very tiny crack in his mask.