The smallest of insecurities.
Draco, because this is simply how his mind worked, always saw the people around him in categories: ranks.
They were not ranked for their usefulness, no, they were ranked by attention.
Every soul who's gaze fell upon him when he entered the great hall felt like a pinprick of heat. Glances tickling his face lightly with shy glances, hatred burning hot trails along his back and possessive glares melting him.
But those were just eyes, unimportant.
When he sat, Pansy glowed beside him: her attention burning though her to encase him in a warm glow. Morag was like sitting next to a furnace, heating his face to the point of pain while her hand seared him where it lay on his thigh. Blaise smirked and flecks of fire sprayed his being. Vincent and Gregory's attention was like a comforting wall of energy at his back. Millicent was a shying flicker of searching flame. Theodore was a pool of thick lava beneath the soles of his shoes, practically oozing contempt.
But they, in comparison, were just tiny flecks of light.
Harry potters attention was like turning on the sun. Exploding from within and burning him from the inside out.
And afterward, he was colder. No body could keep him warm, not like the all consuming sun.
When the boy walking into the room, Draco's attention swung to meet him, drawn as if by magnetic force. When he laughed, Draco fought the urge for blood. When he noticed him, Draco became burned. When they spoke, Draco fumed and smoked.
When they fought, everything felt right.
And when he was gone. Draco was empty.
The sunlight drained out of him like water through a sieve, the attention he had learned to crave vanishing like so much time. And the attention of his friends that he had relied upon once, grew fainter and less necessary.
It was destroying him.
It was like being given a present you really really wanted, only then to find a fault. To throw it away at the first opportunity then find you miss it. That the reason you love it when its gone is the flaw, and the only thing that goes through your mind is how to get it back, ways to be back in the sunlight. But its impossible so you want it more.
Then you scream.
Draco wanted harry potter gone. From his sight, from the darkness that came when he closed his eyes, from the hallways that he walked, from the memories they shared.
He wanted to feel warmed again when he hugged Pansy, or kissed Morag instead of the empty ache of cold.
But he couldn't.
Pansy told him he needed to move on, that it would never have lasted anyway.
Blaise told him he was pathetic and that Morag was a much better choice.
Millicent just smiled, almost as if knowing.
Vincent and Gregory just didn't understand.
Morag simply smiled sadly, knowing there was nothing she could do but wanting to with all her heart.
It was his insecurities and logic that drove Harry away. It was his need and his heart that wanting him back.