Hmm... Nope. Not blonde, rich, fabulous, or British. Therefore, Harry Potter does not belong to me. :(
When Harry ducked into the boy's bathroom to hide from Filch, he never expected to find Draco Malfoy.
Forgetting he had haphazardly thrown his invisibility cloak around his shoulders, Harry stood petrified, just waiting for the spoiled brat to look up and notice him. When that never happened, Harry relaxed slightly and noticed that the blonde was bent over the basin, shaking slightly.
Harry pulled his cloak tighter around himself and crept closer. Draco's hands were clenched tightly around the edge of the sink, and his breath was coming out in short gasps. It was only then that the truth sunk in. He was crying. Draco Malfoy-the better-than-you pureblood-was sobbing.
And all Harry could think was, He deserves it.
But he couldn't leave. Harry just couldn't pull himself away from the hurt Slytherin. He couldn't explain it then… He might not be able to explain it now. But something was keeping him there. Maybe it was the raw emotion Draco showed, or else the way he looked at himself in the mirror, the silent, raging, burning question of WHY ME?! written in his eyes.
When Draco's legs gave out, and a cry escaped his lips, Harry looked on silently as the tormented boy sunk to the ground and dropped his head into his hands.
Sobs were wracking Draco's body now-he was shaking and rocking himself slowly, back and forth as the tears continued.
Harry couldn't move. He was torn between rushing to the boy and helping him, and running away as fast as he could in the other direction. Draco wasn't supposed to cry. Harry wasn't supposed to feel sorry for the boy-he was the bad guy! The bully, the mean kid. He was Dudley, thrown into the wizarding world.
And still Harry watched the blonde break down. He could see mental shields collapsing and crumbling with every new tear that streaked down Draco's face. This was a human being-just like himself, Harry realized. He couldn't pretend to know what was going on with the Slytherin, but something told him it wasn't anything good. Draco didn't break down like this for no reason-that much Harry was certain of.
Knowing that he couldn't stay much longer before Ron and Hermione came looking for him, Harry threw one last look over his shoulder to see Draco brushing tears off of his wet face. Turning around and hurrying to the door, Harry slipped out and hoped that Draco hadn't seen the door crack open. He was halfway to the Gryffindor common room when he realized that his own eyes were wet with tears.
Weeks passed and Harry never let on that he had seen Draco cry.
Draco threw him his usual sneer, and Harry sent over one of his own, but something had changed between them. Harry respected Draco more, was willing to listen to what Draco said more. Eventually, the two boys were willing to sit next to each other in potions.
When Gryffindor and Slytherin played against each other in Quidditch, Harry and Draco exchanged knowing looks before the game, as if silently wishing each other luck. Ron and Hermione wondered of course, but what was Harry going to tell them? That he had seen his worst enemy crying his eyes out in the bathroom and had suddenly gained a new sense of respect for the struggles that boy faced? No...best to leave them to wonder to themselves.
As the years went on, Harry and Draco even drew to the point that they would call each other friends… and maybe a little bit more than that.
Thank you so much for reading and don't forget to leave a review!