Team: Wimbourne Wasps

Theme: Gimme A Sign

Chaser 1 prompt: Gemini - Write about a character(s) being perceived as two-faced but in actuality are just misunderstood

Optional Prompts: [emotion] regret, [phrase] holding your head high, [word] blazing

Incredible, perfect, fun; that was what this year was supposed to be. It was what Draco had been looking forward to for as long as he could remember. This year, he was finally going to Hogwarts. With a brief wave goodbye to his mother, he marched on board the Hogwarts Express. Head held high and a bit of swagger in his step, he moved down the corridor, quickly glancing into each of the compartment as he passed by.

First impressions were everything, and Draco had to ensure he made the best kind of friends. He didn't want to disappoint his father. Chin up, look important, feel important, find allies in other pure-bloods, staying away from Mudblood filth, and if at a loss, find Pansy Parkinson, whose parents were family friends. That was what Father had said, so that was what Draco would do. It all began right now.

That was when he saw her walking towards him. Her bushy head of brown hair didn't seem promising, but her shoulders were back, chin lifted, strides purposeful, and Draco decided that it might be worth a shot. He strode up to the frizzy-haired girl and stuck out a hand.

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he said, bursting with confidence.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she replied. "Have you by any chance seen a toad? A boy's lost his."

"A toad?" Draco questioned, brows raised.

"Yes, a toad. I don't know how you can lose something already, we've barely even left yet, but if you happen to see it hopping around, be sure to point it out."

Granger. Draco thought about the name. Her tone sure sounded trained in the rich and confident manner of a pure-blood, but he didn't seem to recognize the name. Granger. Maybe a family he hadn't met yet.

Hermione tried to brush past him, but Draco caught her arm.

"Wait. I'll look with you," he offered.

She smiled. "Alright, come on then. I've already looked that way."

Maybe he had just made his first Hogwarts friend.

Draco hurried to catch up to the girl, as she had already moved on to the next compartment.

"Why are you helping whoever it is find their frog anyway? Seems like a silly way to pass the time," he asked.

"It's a toad," she corrected, then paused, considering the question for a moment. "I guess I really just want something to keep me occupied. I'm just so excited to arrive! You, know, I think I'm most looking forward to Charms, or maybe the moving staircases, or even the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, it must be so beautiful. What about you? Aren't you excited?" Her eyes blazed with enthusiasm.

"Of course I am! I just want to finally be able to do real magic, you know? No more of that random stuff." Don't get too excited. Keep your air about you. Never let passion overtake you. Draco could hear his father's voice in his head, but for once in his life, he didn't want to listen. Someone was finally just as excited as he was!

As they continued searching the train, the two talked more and more, the conversation growing louder and louder, smiles getting wider and wider. The little voice telling Draco to maintain ambivalence was beginning to fade away. At the end of the trip, they left the train as declared friends.

With Hermione by his side, maybe he didn't need to be quite as in control as his father said. Draco liked that he could be himself around her and she still thought he was worth spending time with. Oh, this year was going to be even better than he thought!

Wrong, wrong, wrong! Everything was wrong! Ever since leaving the train, things just kept getting worse. Draco was sorted into Slytherin, of course, and when he had gone to sit down, he had even saved a seat for Hermione. Time had stilled as the hat called out "Gryffindor" over her head and she went to sit at the table across the room. His heart had dropped to his toes. The one friend he had made, who he had let see who he really was, could no longer be an easy friendship.

The fact that Hermione wasn't in the same house as him hadn't been the most devastating thing to discover that day. Later, he learned the truth about her. It was a good thing the Slytherins had such loose tongues about the other houses. Had he not known…well, it would have been even worse.

Now, lying awake in bed, Draco was just confused. The reason he didn't recognize her last name was that she was a Muggle-born, the exact filth his father had explicitly told him to stay away from. How could he have been so stupid! Then, again, she didn't seem like the type of person his father described. She was smart, proud, carried herself well, knew a lot about magic, none of the qualities a Mudblood should have. He considered that possibility. The reason he couldn't pick it out was that she wasn't the same kind of Muggle-born his father talked about with such distaste; not at all. She wasn't the filthy kind but the good kind. They could still be friends! The others had to understand once they truly met her!

With newfound exhilaration, he grabbed a piece of parchment from beside his bed and scribbled a note. They could be friends, just maybe not in public for a little while; until he could convince the other kids that she wasn't the kind of Muggle-born their parents always talked about. Yes, that could work!

How was he to get the note to her? Perhaps one of the kitchen elves could take it to her first thing in the morning. Yes, yes! With a smile on his face, he tossed the quill aside and snuck from the room. He couldn't have the others waking up with the elf apparating.

Draco couldn't wait to see her again!

Things had only gotten worse in the past few weeks. They were meeting in private, and that in itself was exciting, but the other Slytherins loved to make Hermione's life miserable. Things would only be more terrible if they found out he was friends with her. Draco didn't know what to do. She was the only one he really felt comfortable around, and the only one he truly cared about. Every time they met, a troubling thought lingered in his mind. What if his father got word of their friendship? No one would understand that Hermione couldn't possibly be what they claimed she must; not his peers in Slytherin, and especially not his father. Would Hermione be in danger? Draco didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

Draco glanced at her across the classroom, her nose deep in the potions textbook, one hand stirring the mixture in the cauldron just the right amount. His father could be frightening when he talked about the things he wanted to do to witches and wizards of her blood status. A shiver went up his spine thinking of what might happen to them both if they were discovered.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let her get hurt because of him. The thought made his heart ache. Why did everything have to be so hard?

Draco had to pretend none of it had ever happened. With a deep breath, he tried to focus on not messing up his own potion. At that moment, he wished it never had. This was too much pressure, it hurt too much to think about not being able to be her friend anymore. Maybe, if those past weeks had not occurred, he would have had an easier time making other friends; proper friends. Perhaps Hogwarts would have been just as amazing as he had always dreamed it would be. If he had never seen her smile, never seen her passion, her excitement, and never let himself join in and show her his, then maybe things would have been better.

"You've been avoiding me." She had him cornered in the freshly emptied out classroom, no way of getting out of it this time.

Draco simply shrugged.

"So you have," Hermione clarified firmly. Her eyes, a chocolatey river of fiery emotion, blazed not with excitement and the hunger for learning but with anger and hurt.

"Fine, yes, you got me." There was no point in denying it.

"Why," she demanded.

Mysterious ambivalence. Don't let your passions overtake you. Show them how important you are, holding your head high.

Draco wanted to shake off his father's words, but he couldn't; not if he wanted to protect her.

"I don't know. Why do you care?" he replied with a smirk.

"I thought we were friends! I thought that meant something! Didn't it?"

Draco swallowed. He wanted to tell her the truth, wanted to say how much he loved spending that time with her, how much he wanted to be able to spend every day at Hogwarts like that, but he couldn't.

"I wish it never happened!" he sneered.

Immediately, Draco felt a stone in the pit of his stomach. Why did he say that? Her blazing eyes turned to the floor, blinked a couple times, then pinned back on him.

"One minute you're my friend, the next you're avoiding me. I know you make fun of me when you're with the other Slytherins, but then you smile at me when no one is watching. Now, you say you wish it never happened? Why are you like that!" Her voice was gradually getting louder. "You're so… double-sided! I just want a friend, but I don't like that other part of you!"

She thought he was two-faced? He was always the same, didn't she see? He just wanted to protect her! They could never be friends, but that didn't mean her friendship wasn't what he wanted from the bottom of his heart!

"I'm not," he started quietly, "double-sided. I'm just me. And we can't be friends, end of story." With that, he pushed past her, hurrying from the room.

Draco had never regretted anything so much as saying those words.

Head high.

He would not put Hermione in harm's way.

Head high.

He would not disappoint his father.

Head high.

Everyone would win, except for him.

Draco wished he could take it back, wished he could tell her why it had to be this way, but she wouldn't understand his world either. He hated walking away, knowing he was losing his only true friend.

If only he had turned the other way when he had gotten on the train or decided not to join her on her search for Longbottom's toad.

All Draco wanted to do was hide away from the world and finally let the tears fall from behind the mask. Malfoy's didn't cry. Malfoy's were too good for that sign of weakness. So, he marched through the hall, confident strides leading back to his common room, head held high and a smirk on his face. It didn't matter if he felt like a hole had just been ripped through him, he would not let it show. Nothing could phase him. That's who he was. A Malfoy.

A huge thanks to Hemlockonium and savedprincess85 for beta'ing my story and giving some last minute help!