Disclaimer: I admit, I don't own anything else except the lame inspiration I got from the song. Everything else is either J. K. Rowling's or Eurythmics'.

Warnings: Mentions of SLASH, meaning homosexual relationships, meaning two men in love. Though it's not a main point in the story, it's just a mention.

Pairings: Harry/Pansy, Hermione/Ron, Harry/Ron, Draco/OMC not in that order

Notes at the end! Enjoy…

A Harry Potter Fan Fiction by The Little Green Voice

NOT QUITE ONE OF THEM

-

Inspired by the song "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics

"Sweet dreams are made of this

Who am I to disagree?

Travel the world and the seven seas

Everybody's looking for something

Some of them want to use you

Some of them want to get used by you

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them want to be abused"

-

Some of them want to use you. It's one of the many un-pleasant facts famous and popular people are forced to face at some point. If you have something that others want, you can't trust them. They'll try to take it.

Even if you would've counted them as your friends. If you have something they want, you won't find anything true with them until they get it. Those kinds of people will always be fake to you and can never, even if they really wanted to, be anything real.

Harry first noticed this when Ron always insisted on holding hands when ever they were in public even if he usually wasn't what you'd call a touchy-feely kind of person.. Harry had wanted to see what it was like to have something more than friendship with his most important person. He had hoped to have something special that was only for him and Ron. Harry had wanted something private for once; something that he wouldn't be immediately questioned and interviewed for all those magazines his admirers loved to read. First it felt like a dream come true. It took him two months to realize what Ron really wanted and why he was with him. Believing it and finally breaking free took almost three months and one very angry friend. The ever so loyal Ginny didn't want to see Harry to get hurt any more and wanted her brother to get real and find someone that he really could sincerely love. Even some of Harry's not-so-friends saw through the play. In the end it was probably Malfoy's mean comments at their graduation fest that finally made Harry finish the relationship. Along with the oldest friendship he had ever had.

-

It's all about using when everyone knows your name, face and story. Some of them want to get used by you, they want you to dominate them, to save them and be their Prince Charming and Happily Ever After. After all, all of them saw Harry as a powerful hero, saviour and as someone to look up to. A famous person is never just human.

The relationship of Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson came as a shock to most people. After the war had ended, in Hogwarts School many slytherin students had faced expulsion, some older ones even imprisonment and those who had left had to put up with suspicious looks and rumours. Some actually deserved it, but most didn't. Pansy was one of them and Harry knew it. They met after graduating just by coincidence in a Muggle pub near Diagon Alley and after a long night of intense talking (and some drinking too) ended up making arrangements to meet up again the next day. But not only was the relationship shocking because it was between a former gryffindor and a former slytherin but because both of them had previously been thought not to be romantically interested in the opposite sex. Not to mention Pansy's history as Harry's arch nemesis Draco Malfoy's right hand and best friend. But partly because of these things the couple understood each other on many levels and Harry was happy. He even introduced Pansy to his godfather and planned to propose her. He felt content and good. It all seemed like a fairy tale, the wizarding world followed the dream romance keenly even though Harry and Pansy rarely agreed to say anything to the press about their affair. Everything seemed to be perfect to Harry, until Pansy left him. Eventually she too noticed that The Boy Who Lived wasn't anything spectacular, just a boy who happened to live and after that had been forced to go on living and live up to a stupid prediction. Pansy said that she wanted "a different kind of person" and Harry understood. He wasn't as good as his Golden Boy imago showed, he wasn't a hero in everything, and didn't want to be.

-

Harry had been truly disappointed after breaking up with Ron, now it all came back with Pansy leaving. Some might say he was crushed but his feelings had been kicked and hurt ever since he was a baby, so he survived. He knew it was only life, he knew he'd make it through. And that hurt the most. He felt awful, he even cried and tried to talk to Hermione who still was his friend even after Harry hadn't went to her and Ron's wedding. He just wanted to disappear somewhere far and it pained him to not to dare trust anyone. But regardless of how bad he felt inside, he knew he'd survive. Even when he didn't want to, he knew he would.

Time went on and Harry graduated from Auror training just to find out that there wasn't much to do anymore. Being The Saviour of the Wizarding World, The Golden Boy etc. he got a good job in the Ministry easily but resigned after a few moths. He didn't feel chasing potion smugglers and under aged magic makers helped anything. He was on the edge of leaving the country and travelling away from everything when a funny coincidence led him to another career. Once again he received a letter from Hogwarts.

Taking the post of the DADA (Defence Against the Dark Arts) teacher was daring, considering that all the previous teachers had only lasted one year, most of them eventually either dying or getting seriously injured in various rather nasty ways. But at the moment Harry was feeling both suicidal and very brave. He doubted that Tom Riddle's curse would work anymore now that its caster was long gone. By him.

Through another surprising coincident, his journey from the platform 9 and three quarters reminded him of his first trip on the Hogwarts Express more than he could have ever guessed. After getting through the mother-filled platform and finding an empty compartment, he settled himself on the window side seat. He spent the last ten minutes by watching his soon-to-become-students saying their goodbyes. He was feeling just as lonely about not having anyone to say goodbye to as when he had first sat on the train but also just as excited about getting to Hogwarts as he had always been as a boy. This trip was in a funny way the same kind of new start as the first one had been. Though now he knew where he was going. Or at least thought so.

The train whistled and started moving slowly. Harry shut his eyes and hoped that students would want to stay away from a teacher. He knew just how noisy and annoying first-years could be. When a familiar smooth and unnerving voice woke him from his daydreams he couldn't suppress the embarrassing little yelp of surprise which caused the intruder to give a laugh, again in a very familiar way. Harry opened his eyes a once and stared into the silvery-grey eyes of none else but the notorious Draco Malfoy. Though Malfoy had changed a lot, the situation did remind him very much of their first encounter in the same train after their first-ever meeting on Diagon Alley. It seemed that also Malfoy remembered the event.

"So it is true what they're saying in the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." There was a dramatic pause after the words from their past. "Again."

Harry stared at the young man. Malfoy was a little thinner and taller than he had remembered and his hair had become even whiter and it was now cut a bit shorter. His eyes weren't as cold as Harry remembered them to be, possibly because of the almost-smile lurking in Malfoy's lips, though you couldn't call them friendly either. Even with the war over with both of them on the same side and most old arguments buried and forgotten during the forced truce on the battlefield they had never quite ended their rivalry and hatred. They had just managed to put it aside in order to deal with the war.

As it seemed that the Saviour of the Wizarding World was at total loss of words because of the sudden Reunion Of Rivals, Malfoy sneered and continued along the familiar lines.

"Let me introduce myself." He said and then seemed to remember something. "There's no Crabbe or Goyle this time as they're both locked up in jail, by you. But I'm Draco Black." This woke Harry up from what ever daydream he had been seeing.

"Black?" He breathed, surprised and still rather shocked by seeing his former arch enemy so suddenly.

"It's my mother's maiden name. After all what my dear father did, being a Malfoy doesn't really appeal to me. Not to mention that it makes everyone look at me like I was You-Know-Who himself returned again in full power." The apparently-ex-Malfoy explained with a very familiar smirk on his face.

"No shit?" Harry said quietly to himself, though Draco heard him and smirked at hearing the Golden Boy swear. "Well, Mal- er ... Mr. Black, may I ask why are you here anyway?" Harry found it difficult to call Draco by his godfather's, Sirius's last name.

"I take it you didn't read the staff list?" The man lifted an eyebrow in a way that made Harry remember some very annoying situations back at school. "Well, I'm the Potions teacher, of course. Who else would hire a Malfoy – with or without the name – than Minerva?" The blonde boy said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry nodded in agreement, silently wondering why he had called McGonagall with her first name. "So, anyway, mind if I sit here? I don't fancy having to stand that babbling bumbling band of baboons before I have to start the lessons again…" Before Harry could answer, or even smile at this obvious quote from Harry's old head of house, the former slytherin had stepped in to the compartment, shut the door firmly and sat to the bench opposite to him, flashing a smile as thanks.

The arrogance sure hadn't disappeared anywhere along with the family name or during the war, Harry thought, mentally rolling his eyes at this. Mr. Black was quite as Malfoy-ish as ever and the familiar feeling of unnerving discomfort he had always felt around Malfoy came back to Harry.

"So – you've been teaching last year, too?" Harry asked, just to avoid the questions the other boy might have for him.

"For two years already. Gosh, you really haven't been following the news, have you?"

"I've been busy."

"I know. I heard you passed the Auror training after the war. Didn't get enough of playing cops and bank-robbers during it, Potter, did you?"

"I did. That's why I'm here and not in the Ministry." Harry grunted. The voice of the other boy was familiar but he had trouble believing this really was Malfoy (or, well, the boy he had known as Malfoy before) as there was no sing of the immature taunting and cold arrogance in his tone. Not to mention that he didn't spit his name anymore as if it was something that tasted very bad. Or informed Harry that his friends were 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors'.

"I thought that it might be something like that when I saw your name on the list. DADA, eh? Suicidal, are we? Did you hear what happened to the last bloke who tried his luck with the job?"

"I didn't really care to know that."

"Nothing. He just resigned at the end of the year." Harry lifted his eyebrows at this and Draco continued. "He said it wasn't the right career for him after all. Said he didn't like the weather around Hogwarts either. And I actually thought he was quite enjoying his life there. The teaching, I mean. I thought he was rather good…" Draco smirked at the obviously 'good' memories of the former Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry had heard about Draco's scandalous divorce from some French pureblood witch but he hadn't known the other man had become a player enough to hit on other (male) teachers.

"Sure. Well, I'm planning on staying a bit longer, no matter what weather. I'm not made of sugar." Harry said darkly. He was actually relieved to hear that the last teacher hadn't died or got hurt badly, even if he hadn't been able to last more than one year.

For a long moment they sat in silence, both watching each other. Harry admitted that the slytherin still looked as good as ever. Probably that was why a group of giggling girls walked past their compartment window frequently. Harry tried to see what had changed in the other man. There were a few scars he had gotten from the war, the longest one visible started a little below Draco's left ear and ran all the way downwards the left side of his throat and disappeared under the collar of the white jumper he wore under his casual black travelling cloak. Harry knew it ended on top of Draco's heart (assuming that he had one) because he had been there when the boy had gotten it and he had been the one healing it. It had been one of the few times they had been on a field raid at the same time. Harry started staring through the window. Some smaller scars were next to it, on his neck, probably from other curses. But Harry knew that also Mr. Black, as most members of the Order, carried his worst scars inside.

"By the way, Potter, did you notice Hell freezing just a few minutes ago?" Draco said after a while of staring at him, also taking in all the changes in his former enemy. Harry looked at him baffled.

"No. What do you mean?"

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy-slash-Black just carried on a civilized conversation for a total of fifteen minutes or so without hexing each other all green and gross. I should owl Skeeter, I bet we'd make it to the front page." Draco said with a soft laugh. Harry actually smiled at the joke. Back at school he wouldn't have ever in his wildest dreams thought he would once smile at a laughing Malf- well, Draco.

"Probably. But I've had enough of the Daily Prophet for one lifetime, thanks." Harry busied himself with accioing a Quiddich Now!-magazine from his trunk and opening it. He noticed Mal- Black watching him as if he was Professor Flitwick judging a Christmas tree's decorations. Mentally waiving away the question of 'where on earth do I find all these odd metaphors?', he looked at the other questioningly. The mischievous Malfoy-trademark sneer spread on the man's face as quickly as he met Harry's questioning look.

"You know, I always knew you weren't much a natural celebrity. You've always been too modest and bad with giving cheerful and interesting interviews." He said. Harry shrugged.

"Well I haven't had to worry about giving good interviews as at school you did that for me and after graduating, during the war, Miss Skeeter was very capable of conjuring up empty rumours from nowhere by herself." Draco smirked almost guiltily at the mention of himself, he had indeed been the source of many delicious Potter-rumours during their last years as students at Hogwarts.

"So, have they all been just rumours?" Draco asked with a rather interested look on his face. "Even the one about you and Parkinson?" Harry winched visibly at the mention of his former girlfriend. The memory of the pain was still clear, even if he had somehow gotten over it.

Draco seemed to notice his mistake even if Harry hastily conjured his face back to unreadable mode.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Not my place to ask. Sorry."

"It's okay. And no, in case it interests you, that wasn't an empty rumour."

For a while there was another, this time uncomfortable silence. Harry could feel Draco squirm inside and was surprised to actually want to say something to make him feel comfortable again. Even if a comfortable-and-self-confident Draco did mean an ever-slightly-nervous Harry.

"You know, Draco, if Hell hadn't frozen before, it sure did now. You just apologized." Harry said. Draco managed a weak laugh, still not quite sure if he was forgiven for his not-so-wise question.

"I bet it's been frozen so many times by now the devil hates us more than anything in the world. After all we've been completely civil with each others for-" Draco checked his watch "-almost an hour now and we've been taking for the most time in an almost friendly manner, I haven't even once insulted your Muggle-born or -lover friends or called you a Pot-Head. Plus that I'm actually starting to think it won't be so bad that you're coming to Hogwarts after all." Harry smirked at the last part.

"Well that's nice to hear, Mr. Black."

"See, Potter, also I can be good, well, kind of. By the way, did you get the schedules for this year already?"

The rest of the journey was spent with talking about school issues. Draco filling Harry in about the way Minerva McGonagall ran the school and about new teachers and most annoying students. They arrived to Hogsmead's Station just as Draco was explaining about the new History of Magic teacher who had been hired last year after Professor Binns finally decided to retire to the afterlife.

"…seriously, you've got to see her, she's nothing you'd think a history teacher is like. For some reason, most of the male students have miraculously started to get better grades in History and I bet it has nothing to do with how she's teaching!"

"Well, I'll see her soon enough, won't I?" Harry said cheerfully when they lifted his trunk from the luggage shelve (Draco's things were in a very small briefcase as he had only been away two days).

After getting off the train, they found their way through the ocean of students to the carriages pulled by the creatures both of them now saw, thanks to the war. They got in on one of the carriages with some Hufflepuff students who immediately politely greeted Mr. Black and asked who Harry was. Draco introduced Harry to them as just "a new teacher" of which Harry was quite thankful. Draco smiled at him knowingly; he had guessed right in thinking that his old enemy wasn't in the mood of rabid fangirls after a long trip.

When they finally got up to the castle, Harry stopped right in front of the huge main entrance and sighed.

"Feeing like home, Harry?" Draco asked, the same look of glad-to-be-back clear on his face too.

"Indeed." Harry answered and led them trough the doors to the hall where he stopped again to look around, trying to see if something had changed. Well, something apart from Malfoy. "Those are new." He pointed at a big collection of small pictures in the wall furthest from them. Draco looked at them too and his face fell a little.

"They are pictures of every student or teacher of Hogwarts who died during the war." Draco said quietly. Harry was surprised to hear emotion in his voice. "You'll find depressingly many faces we know from there."

Harry was quiet and nodded, almost hoping that he hadn't asked. This was supposed to be a happy homecoming to Hogwarts, he hadn't wanted to remember the reason he had left. Draco seemed to read his mind. He lifted his left hand and uncertainly placed it on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't let it get you down tonight, mate. Concentrate on the future now."

"You're right, I guess." It felt odd to be comforted by an old enemy, not to mention that he actually did feel comforted.

"Of course I am." Draco said in a very Malfoyish self-loving way and Harry gave him an annoyed look.

Draco's hand on his shoulder stayed there for a moment before retreating to the pocket of Draco's black robes. The uneasiness Harry had always felt around the other man during school had faded into a smallish tingle of some kind of nervousness. He noticed this with a jolt of surprise as they walked in to the Great Hall. Draco was, seemingly automatically, leading them from the Slytherin side of the hall, walking in between the Ravenclaw table and his former house's table. That way, Harry noticed, they didn't get so many looks from the chatting student body than if they had just walked from the middle.

For a moment Harry scanned the Gryffindor table and saw the ghost of Sir Nicholas de Mimsy. When Harry turned back to Draco, the mischievous Malfoy-smirk was back on the slytherin's lips again.

"What?" Harry asked, fake-annoyed.

"Were you looking for familiar faces?" Draco asked, nodding towards Harry's old house table.

"No. I was just looking. But I saw Nearly Headless Nick." Harry answered.

"By the way, Potter, do you remember our first day here?" He said, faking a nostalgic dreamy look on his face.

"How could I forget it, Mr. Black?" Harry smirked at his former arch enemy and worst rival. It had been hate since the first sight for them.

"Well, do you remember me offering you a friendship back then?" Draco asked.

Harry almost stopped walking. Right. He had forgotten it was actually hate since the… well, rejection of friendship. Many alarms rang in his head, in many voices: Never trust a Malfoy, never trust a Slytherin, never trust a Death Eater, never trust a traitor! But this man wasn't a Malfoy anymore; neither was he a Death Eater, also e hadn't been a Slytherin for ages and a traitor he was only to the Death Eaters and Voldemort. All there was left of the boy he used to know and hate was just Draco. The only name he had never used of him. So, was it okay to trust Draco?

"Actually I do distantly remember something that could be decoded from arrogant insulting of my first-ever-friend into an offer of friendship, Malf- I mean, Mr. Black." Harry said, smirking at the other. He knew he was being an annoying prat with a bad sense of humour.

"I admit I wasn't the most subtle and nice the last time, but how about I try again? After all, I bet the Headmistress expects us to be able to behave around each others. She can't give detention for teachers if they fight."

Harry was quiet for a moment. Another warning had started ringing, this time it was on his own voice. It hadn't been okay to trust Ron or Pansy, it wasn't okay to trust any of them. That counts everyone. Somehow he just didn't think of Draco as one of them. He had thought he was something worse than them.

"I bet you'll do even worse, but go ahead and prove me wrong." Harry said. They had now reached the teacher's table and Harry nodded to McGonagall who was sitting in the middle of the table as they stood behind their stools.

"Well, then, Potter-" Draco started but was cut short by the other man.

"Just 'Harry', if you will." He said, smiling at Draco. It sounded somehow wrong for this new, nice Malfoy to call him 'Potter' after all these years he had used it as a swear word.

"Okay. Just Harry, will you be my friend?" Draco asked and held out a hand in a familiar way. The trusting look in his eyes made Harry push his own fears away and he took the hand. At the moment Headmistress McGonagall stood up to talk to the student body and saw the old enemies shaking hands. Neither of the men saw the very surprisingly Dumbledore-ish smile quirking on her lips before he turned towards the students.

"Silence, please, silence… Welcome, my dear students, to another year at Hogwarts." She started and with a last quick smile Harry and Draco sat to the staff table side by side, facing the curious looks of their students.

Maybe Potter couldn't trust Malfoy or anyone else, but Harry could try to trust Draco. After all Draco had never really seen him as the Great Golden Potter Boy or admired him the least bit – and he had showed it too in many occasions. Maybe his worst bully was in fact the only one who had always seen Just Harry. Harry hardly heard a word from McGonagall's speech, though he noticed it was a quite a bit longer than the ones Dumbledore had kept. On the other hand, it's hard to beat a three-word-speech anyway.

He stopped his thoughts and remembered his surroundings only when he felt a nudge from Draco and a quick hiss of "Get up, Harry!" He stood up and waived at the clapping students, smiling rather absent-mindedly and sat back down.

Yes, he decided, Harry could try to trust Draco. Everybody was looking for something, but perhaps Draco didn't want to take that something from Harry and hurt him like the others had done. But if Draco wasn't 'one of them' then what was he actually? Harry felt his head starting to ache. He was being far too philosophical for his own good. Luckily at the moment he heard McGonagall finish her speaking and clap her hands twice. The plates in front of him filled with the familiar great food.

He smiled at the blonde Potions Professor sitting next to him and started filling his own plate. Maybe if he'd just stop thinking so much…

"Harry?"

"Mmh?"

"Care to take a race with brooms at the Quiddich pitch tomorrow? Or are you out of practise?"

Right! That was it! Quiddich! No thinking, just Quiddich! No thinking, just Quiddich with Draco! Good idea!

"I'd love to, Draco."

-

"I'm gonna use you and abuse you

I'm gonna know what's inside

Gonna use you and abuse you

I'm gonna know what's inside you"

- Sweet Dreams by Eurorythms

-

The Little Green Voice's Notes: So, here it is. And here it ends. Unless I get stuck by an inspiration (or a bunch of reviewers) that just demands me to write a sequel.
I think the ending's kind of … not as good as it could be … but… well.

And I know I was talking about writing SLASH fics, but… I've never written a Harry&Draco friendship-thing. And I wanted to have a surprise pairing too – that was Harry and Pansy, if you didn't get it. So… I'll try to do something about the terrible lack of fluffy slash on my account!

I hope you liked this, tell me what you think! (flames are appreciated too, kind of…)