A/N: I figured that since the last three chapters have followed Harry, I would make this one from Draco's POV. There is no poem in this one, because Draco doesn't write poetry. R&R! Thanks!!!

Tenderness in a Poem

CHAPTER FOUR- DIFFERENT VIEWS

Draco's POV:

Draco awoke the next morning with a grin. Today he was going to start the bidding on the missing link of The Boy Who Lived. It was a joyous day. He, Draco Lucius Malfoy, had the piece that even Potter's friends didn't have. Yes, he knew about the rift that was spreading like a disease between the trio. It was evident on their pathetic faces. None of them were happy and none of them said more than a few sentences to each other. Wasn't life just so grand? Finally, Draco was above Harry freaking Potter. He had more friends, more money and he was happy. The day couldn't get any worse.

After Draco had showered and made himself perfect looking in record time, he gathered the book in his right arm and walked out of his dorm room. Draco re-read the poem, walking slowly so as not to walk into anyone. That would be embarrassing, especially to a Malfoy, who held their heads high. The poem really was a masterpiece, if Draco did say so himself. If he wasn't so chipper, the poem could almost pass as his. However, Malfoy's did not plagiarize unless the author was dead and unknown for their work.

Entering the Great Hall, Draco steered himself away from the Slytherin table and towards the Gryffindor one instead. He cleared his throat, making sure all eyes were upon him.

"What are you doing here Malfoy? Lost are we?" Ron dared Draco.

"Oh, harsh words Weasel. I didn't know you could use such foul language," Draco coyly said.

"You mother-"

"Ah, ah, wouldn't want a teacher to hear your foul mouth," Draco smiled wickedly. "I'll let it slide this time though. I am here on a specific task."

"So get on with it and bugger off!" Ron spat, furious.

"As I have noticed, you, Mudblood and Potty here aren't friends. I am here to offer you the missing piece of your precious Boy Who Lived, for a cost of course."

"What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hermione interjected.

Holding up the book, Draco noticed Harry's eyes widen. "This here is a book."

"Really? Wow, smart one there!" Ron growled.

"Not only that," Draco bit back, trying his hardest to refrain from punching the ugly red head. "but this book also contains a secret that your- AHH!"

Before Draco could finish his sentence, Harry had leapt across the breakfast table at his enemy. In an instant, Harry had Draco pinned and had wrestled the small book out of Draco's grasp. Draco, having neither of his hands full, took advantage of his enemies one empty hand, and punched Harry in the nose. A large crunch was heard, spilling Harry's blood himself and the raven haired boy.

"Ugh," Draco cringed just as Professor McGonagall shot up the main walkway between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw table.

"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Potter! Let's go, right this instant!" she screamed at the two bloody boys, one of which was still clutching the small book as he clutched his broken nose. "NOW!"

Following McGonagall, Draco tried to clean his robes off, but the Siphoning Charm didn't work as well as he had hoped.

"Movafucka," Harry whispered behind his Professor's back.

"Jackass," Draco spat back just as quietly.

In the Infirmary, Madam Pomfrey healed Harry's broken nose and then cleaned up the two boys. She was, however, ordered to leave Harry with the pain that throbbed through his now unbroken nose and to let Draco's head ache. That would 'teach' him not to fight anymore. Both boys were given detentions for that night at nine o'clock.

"If you are late by a second, I will give you a harsher punishment than cleaning bed pans. You had better thank Merlin that Albus doesn't know. He would not be pleased!!" McGonagall stormed out of the Infirmary.

"Thanks Potter. You can be such prick," declared Draco, as he rubbed the back of his head which was sore from having it hit the concrete floor. Harry had caught him off guard but he had gotten his revenge. Now he just needed to get back that book. "Can I have my book back?"

"Fuck no!" Harry pulled the book away from Draco.

"I'm the one that checked it out."

"So I see. How did you know?"

"I saw you writing in it, I was going to tell Pince, but this is better, much better. So let me have that book or I'll break more than your nose this time," Draco threatened, glaring at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened, then became small slits, "You think you are so tough, but I'd like to see you go through the shit that I do! You talk big but you act small. So here," Harry threw the book at Draco, "take the bloody book. Sell it for all it's worth, I don't care anymore. There is nothing to live for anyways." With that said, Harry left the infirmary, leaving behind a stunned Draco.