Disclaimer- none of it is mine. It's all J.K. Rowling's and I'm sure she'd hate what I've done to her wonderful characters.
"That Potter. He has everything- the fame, the adoration, the loyalty. You can't buy loyalty like he gets from that mudblood and her beanstalk boyfriend. And that Weasley girl too." Of course, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune, did not say these thoughts aloud. They ran in his head more often than he'd admit to himself. (There was no one else he could admit to.) He knew that to say anything that even sounded like jealousy toward Harry would destroy part of his power base, his worshipper's faith in him.
For Draco Malfoy didn't have friends. Friends were equals and Draco had no equal at this miserable school. He was better than anyone. So he had been told since he was old enough to walk. Draco was not a fool- he knew he was being groomed for some great task. He knew there were grand plans for his future. And once perhaps, he might have enjoyed that knowledge. But Draco knew one other thing; he hated his father.
Draco Malfoy- devoted son and ambitious youngster was now a true teenager. He chaffed under the restrictions his parents put on him. They were unfair. If there was one belief in his mind it was that. The rules were unfair and his father was unfair. For years he had done everything he'd been told, everything expected of him, and he had done it all perfectly. It wasn't enough though. It was never enough for his father.
Most people probably wouldn't believe that he had any restrictions at all. It was true that Draco got almost everything he wanted, but he was required to work for it. His father insisted on the highest grades he could get. Sometimes Draco thought his father asked for better grades than he was capable of getting. There were other things as well, the constant pressure to move in the right circles, the endless hints about the Parkinsons being the "right sort of people", and endless letters telling him to behave himself around Dumbledore. So, like all the many other teenagers before him, Draco tried to break away from the bonds of family and control. He wanted to be whatever his father wasn't and his father was definitely not one thing- a friend of the boy wonder. Draco had decided to become Harry's friend.
It was not that easy though. Draco had attempted once before to befriend Potter and he had been snubbed. No one ever snubbed a Malfoy! Draco's upbringing had reinforced that idea many times over. It had taken five years for Draco to forgive the insult enough to try again. He was ready now, or so he thought. He was even, would wonders never cease, trying to humble himself enough to try again. For his father had finally crossed the line; he had gone one step too far. It had all been funny for awhile.
His father informed him that Cedric Diggory's death was supposed to have humor in it. Perhaps earlier it would have been funny, because once he would have accepted the idea that Diggory was just Hufflepuff scum and Hufflepuffs were more intelligent after they were dead. But Draco now wondered if there was something more important than power. When he had been young he would sit and think about the boy-who-lived and his parents. He simply couldn't understand what would make anyone offer his or her life for another person. It was inconceivable to him. That was before Professor Lupin.
As a third year student, Draco had mocked the man for being poor. Being poor was, after all, the ultimate disgrace. It was not long however, until Lupin's intelligence and complete control had won Draco's grudging respect. He had been disappointed when Snape had sent him packing. As much as he idolized the potions' master he couldn't help disliking him for that.
Amazingly however, Lupin had written to him the summer after that year. He mentioned how Draco seemed to be stunting his own learning by spending more time ridiculing the lesson than learning it, how he could do really well in the Defense Against the Dark Arts field, etc. Draco had secretly kept up the correspondence with him. It had to be a secret. He knew his father hated Lupin and Draco was not stupid enough to challenge his father. No one challenged Lucius Malfoy. Not even the Minister of Magic was willing to engage in a battle of wills, he had fallen like all the rest.
He knew that he shouldn't have told Remus a few of the things that he'd written, but he was so caught up. For the first time in his life he had someone with whom he could truly talk to; Remus was articulate, intelligent, and so very understanding. Just the way he'd always wished his father would be like. It wasn't as if he could hold a decently interesting conversation with his lunkhead lackeys.
Those lunkhead lackeys weren't quite as dense as he'd thought them however; there was no other explanation for how his father had learned about Draco's connection with Lupin. It was the middle of his fifth year when the news came, straight from Remus. The letter sounded very much like him. It was calm and controlled of course, but certain phrases seemed to be lanced with extra meaning.
~ I'm in hiding~ a couple death-eaters seem to be nursing a grudge towards me~ don't try to contact me~ remember my advice. ~
It was signed with Lupin's signature. Draco had crumpled the letter in his fist and thrown it in the fire, like all the other letters. He knew better than to leave a paper trail. The anger was flamed even hotter when he received another letter later that day. This one was from his father, full of amused recounting and boasts of what he would do to "that fogey-loving piss-poor werehound" when he managed to get his hands on him. Draco sat and turned that heat into cold anger that would burn long and patiently inside him.
He had learned to skill his emotions carefully. Lupin had so changed his beliefs that he could no longer honestly chortle over the stories of Voldemort-induced murders, not even the muggles ones. But it would be a bad idea to show that, so he continued to laugh. Lately he'd even been feeling stirrings of disgust and pain when hearing of these awful deaths. All his family's careful schooling had been destroyed by one empathetic adult.
An adult who had made a suggestion- make friends with Potter. It had been his one request and Draco was going to follow the advice. Then he would show his father. He would no longer be his little puppet, his pawn! He would be himself! He would be Draco! No longer Malfoy- hiding behind his father's name! He would break free!
"Tomorrow," he thought as Harry walked by with his entourage. "Tomorrow I'll talk to him. Tomorrow, when he doesn't have so many people around him." After all, old habits die slowly, kicking and screaming.
- The End (For now. Have hope, there could be a sequel. But don't hold your breath.)