Hey guys! So I decided I was going to make a REAL effort to get chapters updated every other week to every 2 weeks so here we go—next chapter let's do this! As always, your support and kind remarks are so appreciated and I'm always open to hear your opinions, suggestions, etc. Okay? Okay. Let's do this.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco knew he had always been good at thinking on his feet, by the age of five he had been able to convince his father that his albino peacocks had locked themselves in the back shed without any coaxing or bird feed whatsoever. So here he was, Draco Malfoy, master of impromptu dragging Harry fucking Potter through the rain in an attempt to salvage this date. Meeting. Date? Whatever the hell it was, it was up to him if he had any hopes of seeing Potter again. The question was, where to go? Someplace quiet, where they wouldn't have to worry about people staring or eavesdropping, but it couldn't be a creepy bar that only received business from shady vampires and hags. Without warning, Draco stopped dead in his tracks, causing Harry to run into him and almost cause them both to fall into the mud.

"Warn someone before you just stop running like that!"

"Please Potter, you play Quidditch your reflexes should be able to keep up with a simple change of pace."

"How was that a change of pace? You went from eighty miles an hour to a complete stop in two seconds!"

Draco ignored him and made a sharp left down the nearest ally, ducking under the eves of the buildings as he did so.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this place before, how stupid could I be?"

"What place?"

Once again, Harry received no answer. Draco pulled him up to a small side street Harry would have walked by if it had not been pointed out to him by someone who already knew it was there. They made their way up the street and stopped in front of a small, dingy looking door. A sign hanging over the door read: Cauldron Coffee—from black to blonde, we have your brew! Harry stared. Had Draco Malfoy just taken him to a coffee shop? Of all the places he could have imagined he was being dragged to, this had not even been close to making the list.

"Well?" Draco snapped impatiently, "Do you plan to stand dripping in front of the door or should we go in?"

Harry jolted out of his thoughts and quickly grabbed the handle and pulled the door out towards him; a noise reminiscent of a teapot whistling sounded as he and Draco stepped over the threshold. Despite the slightly dilapidated exterior, the inside of Cauldron Coffee was quite cozy. A counter laden with pastries, cups, syrups, and the largest espresso machine Harry had ever seen sat directly to the right. The rest of the cafe was occupied by a collection of secluded booths and tables that had been paired with mismatched furniture of all shapes and sizes. Candles lined the walls and there was a fire roaring in the grate. Harry followed Draco to the counter as a girl who looked to be in her early twenties met them at the counter.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, tossing an electric blue braid over her shoulder as she spoke and looking at Harry and Draco though black-rimmed eyes.

"We'll take two large mochas," Draco answered automatically.

Harry was about to protest about Draco ordering for him before he realized that he would have had no idea what to order off the impressive Espresso & Beverage board that hung behind the barista station. Besides, Harry was pretty certain mocha had chocolate in it, and it was pretty difficult to not enjoy chocolate in a hot drink. Draco paid the barista and led Harry to a booth in a back corner of the shop near the fire.

"You didn't have to pay, I could have bought my own drink."

"You paid back at the Three Broomsticks, and besides, I'm the one who asked you out. I wouldn't be a proper gentleman if I made you pay, would I?"

Harry snorted. "Because being a gentleman is what this is all about?"

"Nothing wrong with making a good impression on a first date. They tend to last."

Harry wasn't sure how to answer that, so he didn't say anything. A tiny bell sounded and he jumped up. "I'll get the drinks then, shall I?"

Draco shrugged, trying to hide a smirk. Really, the great Harry Potter was nervous over a coffee date? Draco was sure that was side of the Golden Boy that not many people had the opportunity to see. Harry returned with two steaming mugs and slid into his seat opposite Draco. They looked at each other for a moment before Harry broke the silence.

"So, you wanted to get to know me. So…ask me something."

"Like what?"

"Anything. However you usually get to know people."

Draco looked shocked. "I've never done this before. Hold on, let me think."

Harry smiled and leaned back, "Fire away whenever you're ready Mister Malfoy."

Draco thought for a minute, staring at his fingers on the worn, knotted wood of the table. Suddenly, he looked up and smiled at the dark-haired boy sitting across from him. "Okay, here's my first question: do you really have a tattoo of a hippogriff on your chest?"

Harry stared, utterly stunned.

"Well?"

"Of all the things you could ask, of all the questions in the entire world, you choose to ask me about a tattoo?"

"You said I could ask whatever I want, I want to know if you have a hippogriff tattoo."

"Fine. No, I do not have a tattoo of a hippogriff on my chest—or any other tattoo for that matter."

"Really?" Malfoy looked slightly suspicious, as if the idea of Harry not having a tattoo was too ridiculous to even begin to comprehend. "You sure you weren't drunk and simply got it in a moment of poor judgment? Not that I would ever judge you," he added quickly.

"Malfoy, I am one hundred and ten percent sure that there are no tattoos on any part of my body." Harry made sure to annunciate each word clearly unless Malfoy had a problem understanding pure logic and English. "I suppose that makes it my question?"

"Yes, I supposed it does," the Slytherin replied grudgingly, taking a sip of mocha as he spoke. "Whenever you're ready Mister Potter."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He knew there was a question he wanted to ask very badly, but he couldn't tell whether he should play along with the innocence of the game first to help Draco become more relaxed. That way, he could be sure to get a straight answer. He decided to follow that train of thought and see where it got him.

"Okay, why did it matter for you to tell me that you don't hate me?"

If Draco was expecting any number of questions, it certainly wasn't that one. He stared at Harry for a good three minutes before finally opening his mouth to respond to the question.

"Because you were judging me based on assumptions and that's not how I want people to see me or think of me. I don't care what people think normally but if they have the wrong idea about who I am as a person, than I want to set the record straight."

"So you do care about what people think of you."

"No, I most certainly don't!"

"You just said that you don't want people to get the wrong idea about who you are, that sounds like caring to me."

"I want people to know me for who I am, not what my family name suggests. I'm sick of everyone jumping to conclusions because I'm a Malfoy. That doesn't define all that I am anymore. Maybe I let it define me at one point in my life, but that's not who I want to be anymore."

"You want people to know that there's more to you than your name—that you're more than your wealth, or heritage, or appearance, or—"

"Scars," Draco cut in pointedly. "Yes, Potter, that's exactly what I want. I would think you of all people would understand that feeling."

Harry was stunned. Yes of course he knew that feeling; he had grown up with that feeling and it had hounded him his entire life. The Dursleys had hated him for who he was, even before he knew exactly what it was that they were so afraid of. Then as soon as he realized he was a wizard, everyone he had ever met had expected something from him. He was either the Golden Boy, the savior of the wizarding world, a bastard child, a failure, or simply someone to ogle at and whisper about in the hallways. But no matter what anyone's opinion of him was, the fact remained that they all revolved around who Harry was supposed to be, what he was supposed to do, or what he was made to become. Very few people looked at him and saw Harry Potter as the individual he was, as a person who had a personality, goals, and ideas all his own that were in no way dictated by a scar.

"Yeah," Harry replied slowly, looking down into his mug as he did so. "I know exactly what you mean."

Silence fell over the two wizards once again. Occasionally they would make eye contact before Harry went back to staring out the window and Draco observed the scratches on the surface of the wooden table. After about ten minutes of this silence, Harry spoke.

"For as long as I can remember, I've always been expected to act in a certain way or be a certain kind of person because of how people saw me. Even before I knew that I was a wizard and that everyone had all these expectation for me, my aunt and uncle decided who I was based on how they felt about my parents. I didn't even know why they were treating me the way they were until I got my letter from Hogwarts, I just assumed I must have done something to deserve being ridiculed and punished. It had never even crossed my mind that they were treating me a certain way based on their own irrational fears and opinions. Then I found out who I was, and instead of people wanting to get to know me for who I was, they met me with ideas already formed about who I was and how I should be. It was even worse because I barely had any knowledge of the magical world so I looked like a complete idiot to most people. I mean, how could 'famous Harry Potter' not know about Quidditch or Lord Voldemort—"

Draco flinched.

"—But the worst part was how people already decided what I was going to like or dislike. Who I was going to be because of my parents, my father, and because of some stupid destiny I didn't even ask for! People never asked to get to know Harry, just the Potter boy with his scar."

Draco sat still, staring at Harry with his mouth agape. He couldn't recall Harry ever speaking to him so much before without a hint of wariness or irritation in his voice. He was being completely honest with him because…because….he trusted Draco? He knew Draco would understand? Hoped he would understand? The way Harry was looking at him now made him realize that how things proceeded between the two of them depended greatly on how Draco chose to respond to Harry's confession. It was a test to see if Draco honestly wanted to hear about how Harry was feeling, what he thought, and if Draco actually wanted to get to know Harry without the scar and the demanding destiny. He bit his lip, trying to come up with the right words before speaking again.

"From the time I was old enough to walk, my father drilled me to become the perfect Malfoy heir. If I was to bring honor to the family name then I would have to learn to walk like a Malfoy, talk like a Malfoy, think like a Malfoy, and behave like a Malfoy. I had to imagine that the whole world was watching me every moment, assessing my choices and my actions. One false move and not only would I bring dishonor to the Malfoy name, I would shame my father and mother, proving them to also be failures as Malfoys. Nothing but the best was accepted from me and I was expected to take on the Malfoy beliefs and values as my own, no questions asked. I remember my father trying to teach me how just because I was a Malfoy, I was automatically better than some of the other boys I grew up with. At first I couldn't comprehend how money and my name alone meant that I was allowed to step over other people -even my own friends- in order to get to the top—to the be the best. But my father could be very…persuasive when he wanted to be and I learned quickly not to question him."

Harry winced. He wasn't completely sure, but any sort of persuasion that came from Lucius Malfoy probably wasn't the most ethical form of compromise and Harry seriously doubted he would change his methods just because his son was involved.

"So you just, gave in?"

"What other choice did I have?" Malfoy spat out angrily. "I was a little kid, all I wanted was to make my father proud of me, for him to notice me. As far as I could tell there was no other way to be. I either had to be the perfect son my father wanted or leave the family as a disgrace and an outcast. Now, you ask any ten year old what they would do in that situation and I bet you almost all of them would choose to stay, no matter what sacrifices they would have to make. We can't all be noble and righteous like you!"

Harry flinched. He had not expected such an aggressive reaction from Draco, but it made sense. It was his childhood, his life, part of Draco that they were dissecting. Most people would get defensive talking about something that personal, especially if they felt as though they were being attacked.

"I'm sorry Draco, I wasn't trying to make you feel like I was judging you. I don't pretend to be hero or righteous. I just happen to make stupid decisions a lot of the time. I honestly can't say that I wouldn't do exactly what you did if I had been in that situation. It's unfair and something no kid should ever have to go through. I'm sorry you did."

"It's okay," Draco mumbled, breaking eye contact to stare out into the rain. "I shouldn't have lost my temper. I just don't normally like talking about myself."

"Neither do I. I usually try to avoid it all costs. No one really wants to listen to what I have to say. They just want to hear what they expect me to tell them. Before I open my mouth half the time their mind is already made up."

"What about your friends," Draco asked skeptically. Surely Granger and the Weasel knew Potter well enough to listen to what he had to say.

Harry blinked, obviously startled. "Ron and Hermione are great, they really are. But they have to put up with me and the attention I attract form others wherever we go. I think they get tired of it sometimes and I can't blame them. Not many people would choose to be friends with someone who everyone is constantly watching. Either they get pushed to the side like they don't matter, or they get dragged into rumors and gossip that have nothing to do with them. It's not the most attractive situation," Harry smiled darkly.

Draco felt a pang in his chest. No matter what complications had befallen Harry he had always assumed that the golden trio was an unbreakable force. To be honest, he had always been a little jealous of Harry for having such loyal friends. Blaise was really the only person Draco felt he could count on for anything. Pansy was good when it came to alcohol and sex and Crabbe and Goyle were good company if you like oppressive silence, but Draco never felt had had ever really belonged to a group before. Some called him the Prince of Slytherins, but his court was comprised less of confidants and more of a group of minions he could gather and control to help him carry out plots of adventure and splendor…well if by "splendor" you meant organizing ways for the Slytherins to be at the top of every social event Hogwarts had to offer. What could he say? Slytherins had a thing for being dapper and dressing to impress.

"But they care about you, right? I mean they've been with you through everything. If you guys hadn't been as lucky as you have been, they could have been expelled…or—"

"I know what could have happened," Harry ground through gritted teeth. "You don't think I'm aware of what danger simply being involved with me means for them? For anyone who gets too close to me? Do you think I like that feeling? Do you think I take pride in being able to single-handedly wreck everything I touch because of situations I can't control?"

Draco was completely taken aback.

"Harry I—"

"What? You didn't mean to remind me what a danger I am to anyone who comes near me? That I do nothing but bring problems to people and drag them down with me?"

"No, that's not what I meant Harry. You're taking this the wrong way. I was trying to say that—"

"That what? That I'm a train wreck? That I'm better off without other people around because all I do is make things complicated? You know what, thank you Mister Malfoy. I have learned so much about myself today. Quite an enlightening experience."

Before Malfoy could respond, Harry had jumped up and walked out of the café. Draco looked around, utterly stunned. He caught the eye of the blue-haired barista and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You might want to go a little easy on him. Seems like he's been through the ringer a couple times."

"And just what the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

She smirked.

"Well you got yourself into this situation, right? I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"You emotional people," Draco screamed, throwing his hands in the air and slamming the door behind him as he walked back out into the rain.