In Draco's opinion, which was the only one that mattered, Harry Potter was
a coward. Admittedly, Draco had run away from an amazing amount of danger,
but there was nothing wrong with being frightened by things that were
largely recognized as able to kill you. However, Potter had all but
scurried away from Draco's hand. Looking down at it, there didn't appear to
be anything wrong with his hand at all.
There were five fingers on his hand, each length proportional to each other and the palm. There were fingernails at the end of each finger, which should have been trimmed neatly far more often than they actually were, but that isn't an excuse to be frightened of a hand. The skin was pale, and tinged pink where blood pooled in the spongy pads. Thinking on that fact often left Draco slightly nauseous, but since blood flow was something every person had to deal with, he couldn't imagine Potter holding that against him. Some people said that Draco's hand was hot, and others told him it was cold. He had come to the conclusion that everyone's hands were at different temperatures, and as far as he knew, personality had no effect on it whatsoever. While his basis for comparison was slightly skewed, as he allowed very few people to touch him, let alone hold his hand, hand temperature didn't appear to be the deciding factor in taking a persons hand or not. Dropping it after contact certainly happened, but one couldn't judge such things before touching.
He hoped. It was one thing to look at a Weasley and tell by their freckles that they were uncouth, but he had never dared look at a person's hand and decide what their temperature would be. Though he thought, in all honesty, that even if he did know how warm their hand would be, it wouldn't make up his mind whether or not he would touch it. Unless the hand would burn him, because that would just be foolish.
Draco thought of himself as very prudent. Run from Vampires, Dementors, and anyone with knives. If at all possible, avoid Dumbledore in the halls. Wrap a lightly warmed towel around yourself after a bath, particularly if you room in dungeons. If you think it might hurt, don't do it. If you think it might kill you, run screaming and begging for mercy until someone else will take care of it. If something bothered you, get it to go away, although he was still trying to figure out how make Pansy stop following him around.
But Draco had never, ever, run away from something so simple minded as a hand. According to his father, that was a problem. Apparently, the world was full of symbolism; every action must be carefully weighed to see how those who were aware of this important rule would read it. Draco rather thought his father was paranoid. But if the ministry was out to get you.You were probably pretty safe. The ministry didn't have many people who prescribed to the 'Every Action is a Code' way of life, and Draco knew very few Death Eaters did.
Lucius Malfoy lived in his own little world, which amused Draco to no end, until he realized he lived in his own also. Draco lived in a world where people were either his friends, or frightened by him, and no one ever found him personally distasteful. And in this world- it was all right to spend hours examining your hand to see why it didn't equal up to Harry Potter's standards, rather than look at himself to see what was wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with him, obviously, and so it must have been that he was much too powerful for Potter to handle. Because if it wasn't that he had too much power, it was something else, and that made Draco feel small. It made Draco feel incomplete, and that was unacceptable. So Potter was frightened, and he was perfect, and Draco had nothing else to do but read his palm and worry over what he would have done if Potter had just taken his hand. Whole hours of the day could go bye, where Draco would forget that Pansy required a date for every assignment that he copied, and when Draco went to face another class with Potter, he wonders: Why didn't he want me?
In Harry's opinion, Malfoy was naïve, stupid, and bigoted beyond all belief. He couldn't fathom how a person could blithely spew acerbic comments on a crowd of people, and then expect them to fall to their knees and worship him. If he were to ever waste his time thinking about it, he would have wondered what kind of life experiences would lead someone to believe that was how things worked.
Harry didn't think about it, though; he didn't wonder, because he couldn't drum up enough energy to care, unless Malfoy was particularly annoying, such as when he belittled good people's deaths, and then he was only vaguely angered beyond intelligent, rational thought. Most thoughts dedicated to Malfoy were short, casual wishes of never ending suffering.
But all things considered, Malfoy wasn't very important, really.
There were five fingers on his hand, each length proportional to each other and the palm. There were fingernails at the end of each finger, which should have been trimmed neatly far more often than they actually were, but that isn't an excuse to be frightened of a hand. The skin was pale, and tinged pink where blood pooled in the spongy pads. Thinking on that fact often left Draco slightly nauseous, but since blood flow was something every person had to deal with, he couldn't imagine Potter holding that against him. Some people said that Draco's hand was hot, and others told him it was cold. He had come to the conclusion that everyone's hands were at different temperatures, and as far as he knew, personality had no effect on it whatsoever. While his basis for comparison was slightly skewed, as he allowed very few people to touch him, let alone hold his hand, hand temperature didn't appear to be the deciding factor in taking a persons hand or not. Dropping it after contact certainly happened, but one couldn't judge such things before touching.
He hoped. It was one thing to look at a Weasley and tell by their freckles that they were uncouth, but he had never dared look at a person's hand and decide what their temperature would be. Though he thought, in all honesty, that even if he did know how warm their hand would be, it wouldn't make up his mind whether or not he would touch it. Unless the hand would burn him, because that would just be foolish.
Draco thought of himself as very prudent. Run from Vampires, Dementors, and anyone with knives. If at all possible, avoid Dumbledore in the halls. Wrap a lightly warmed towel around yourself after a bath, particularly if you room in dungeons. If you think it might hurt, don't do it. If you think it might kill you, run screaming and begging for mercy until someone else will take care of it. If something bothered you, get it to go away, although he was still trying to figure out how make Pansy stop following him around.
But Draco had never, ever, run away from something so simple minded as a hand. According to his father, that was a problem. Apparently, the world was full of symbolism; every action must be carefully weighed to see how those who were aware of this important rule would read it. Draco rather thought his father was paranoid. But if the ministry was out to get you.You were probably pretty safe. The ministry didn't have many people who prescribed to the 'Every Action is a Code' way of life, and Draco knew very few Death Eaters did.
Lucius Malfoy lived in his own little world, which amused Draco to no end, until he realized he lived in his own also. Draco lived in a world where people were either his friends, or frightened by him, and no one ever found him personally distasteful. And in this world- it was all right to spend hours examining your hand to see why it didn't equal up to Harry Potter's standards, rather than look at himself to see what was wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with him, obviously, and so it must have been that he was much too powerful for Potter to handle. Because if it wasn't that he had too much power, it was something else, and that made Draco feel small. It made Draco feel incomplete, and that was unacceptable. So Potter was frightened, and he was perfect, and Draco had nothing else to do but read his palm and worry over what he would have done if Potter had just taken his hand. Whole hours of the day could go bye, where Draco would forget that Pansy required a date for every assignment that he copied, and when Draco went to face another class with Potter, he wonders: Why didn't he want me?
In Harry's opinion, Malfoy was naïve, stupid, and bigoted beyond all belief. He couldn't fathom how a person could blithely spew acerbic comments on a crowd of people, and then expect them to fall to their knees and worship him. If he were to ever waste his time thinking about it, he would have wondered what kind of life experiences would lead someone to believe that was how things worked.
Harry didn't think about it, though; he didn't wonder, because he couldn't drum up enough energy to care, unless Malfoy was particularly annoying, such as when he belittled good people's deaths, and then he was only vaguely angered beyond intelligent, rational thought. Most thoughts dedicated to Malfoy were short, casual wishes of never ending suffering.
But all things considered, Malfoy wasn't very important, really.