Harry Potter fucking scares Draco Malfoy. Not that any Malfoy in their right mind would ever admit to being frightened. Harry Potter is terrifying.
Draco grew up with dark deeds. His whole house was a nesting ground of the frightening and obscure. Things his mother would tell him not to touch because did he want to end up like his cousin? Some wraith-like creature that devours souls? That's what she thought. Of course he didn't, now go get dressed for dinner like a good Malfoy.
His bedtime stories were not of love and handsome princes, but of evil, and hate, and the twisted minds of the great leaders that were manipulated from the sidelines.
When Harry fucking Potter first entered Draco's life he thought that maybe this was an escape, a way out of the fear that perpetuated his life. But the rays of hope were destroyed.
Then Draco would watch Harry, and the more he watched him the more he began to see his bedtime stories played out. Insanity. Hatred. Fear. Draco knew what would happen next. It was like watching a new breathgaspingheartclenching -nightmare rise.
When Draco sees Harry Potter, he sees Voldemort.
Draco reflected how different he was from both of them. Of the three of them he came out the most sane. He was the one who grew up with the dark, more than either of them. They took that fear and hate and twisted it inside and made it a part of them.
Draco understood now. Let it go, hatred only breeds fear, and fear can only hold so long, before he does something about it. He was really the more powerful of either of them.
Draco laughed hard and long. Then he walked away.