A/N: I don't own Harry Potter etc etc. It's not supposed to be slash neccasarily, more like the Luna and Ginny one. Just two people.
Draco sat in the bleachers of the quidditch stadium. His white blonde hair appeared to glow in the moonlight, making him quite visible to anybody who passed. He wore a dark hood to hide it, but it wouldn't stay put, and he didn't care enough to bother fixing it. He looked up at the navy sky, thinking about nothing in particular, enjoying the solitude. So much was happening in his common room, commotion and noises abounded. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of the quidditch field at night.
As he walked, Draco recalled the place where he and Harry had raced for the snitch in earlier years. He gave a quiet laugh at the thought of that time. He'd been taught since he was born about who to like and who to hate, where his allegiances lied. He'd never thought twice about what he'd been told. His whole perception had been changed so fast.
Harry too walked the stadium, usually on a different night. His common room was loud, as well. The entire dorm seemed fixated, it seemed, on how to get a boy into the girls rooms. He loved laughter, but the cool tranquility of the night had drawn him away. He knew Hermione would be out to look for him soon, that he should go back inside. Somehow he just couldn't, this was where he needed to be. Not inside the confines of the castle, but where the breeze could whisper over him.
Draco had been in the Ministry when he realized. He had followed his father there for some sort of business, and had managed to get himself into the main corridor of the Department of Mysteries. The darkness was calming and the quiet a relief to the hectic life upstairs. He walked slowly, taking in the simple yet grand features of the expansive space. As he moved, his gaze was caught by a grey in the sea of black. Looking closer, he realized that the walls were covered with small grey text, quoting various people and books and lifetimes. He started reading the many lines of script, breathing in the words from so many times and places. "Your entire perception can be altered by those around you. Truth is only what you are taught to believe is real. True identity is breaking free from these restraints." Draco stopped reading after these words. He lowered himself to the ground, ignoring the chill. He though about how they applied to his life. He had been raised to be cold and strong. He was taught to hate almost everybody, especially Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and as schooling grew nearer, all other houses as a whole. Whenever he had formed his own opinion about something, his father would punish him if it was not what he thought was truth. He had never really been his own person. Those restraints were there still, preventing him from his own thoughts, ideas, opinions. When had he ever spoke his mind without changing it so others would approve? He slowly got up from the ground, hand moving over the text. The letters felt embedded in his skin. He started walking back to where he had left his father, looking back at that place with every few steps. This isn't who I am.
Harry caught a glimpse of silver white in a near section of bleacher. He gracefully made his way towards that spot, eyes fixated on the way the moon made the silver glow.
Draco was drawn back from his thoughts with the sound of footsteps drawing nearer. He looked up to see a dark figure approaching, the moonlight reflecting off of a glass surface.
Harry recognized Malfoy as he got closer, but did not turn around or shorten his strides. He had nothing to accuse him of, for the moment, and if he enjoyed being out here, there was enough space for the both of them.
Draco knew it was Potter with the reflection off his glasses. He was caught off guard, for he had never seen his "enemy' in the bleachers before tonight. He stayed where he was. There was no need to move or provoke anything. He didn't really have anything against the boy himself, just what he had once been taught.
Harry arrived where Draco sat. Malfoy had been quieter lately, he had noticed. The cruel and cold icy look in his eyes had gone, his face softened. They looked at each other, keeping the silence. Harry sat next to him, and resumed looking at the sky.
They might not be friends, but they weren't enemies. They were just there, looking at the sky, enjoying the peaceful tranquility of the moonlight.
Reviews welcomed and appreciated.
JadeLilyMalfoy