Borderline
by: Crumbcake
A million thanks to my beta Tacet for catching most of my dumb mistakes. This is a slash Harry/Draco fic and it will eventually have a higher rating since the two lovies can't keep their paws off each other.
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit fun.
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Father,
I am not taking my responsibilities lightly. I do know how important my duties are to us and I continue to take them as seriously as I have for the last couple of years.
I have NOT slacked off.
It is entirely unfair to 'deal with my disobedience regarding our dark lord' when I have done nothing of any sort to justify such a consequence. I've kept a close watch on 'things' here, like I always do. My last few letters have not been as extensive as what they normally are ONLY because I've been preoccupied with my studies.
The little mudblood whore (the one that adheres to Potter like a bad case of body odor) has beat me on top marks. Yes, father, again. I'm sure you will punish me as you see fit, but I really couldn't care less about what you would or wouldn't do to me. I'm going to study harder anyway, because a MUDBLOOD should never top a Malfoy in anything.
I swear, father, that skanky bookworm slut must be blowing Snape straight through a whole new level of Nirvana for him to give her higher marks than me. I'm working harder now, if she again beats me on top marks, especially in potions, then I will have to murder her much sooner than I had anticipated. I sincerely hope that she's one of the earlier ones to get killed.
Father, speaking of which, could you have me marked sooner? Crabbe and Goyle were marked over the summer, as I'm sure you are very much aware of. I turn 17 in just over a month, why don't you arrange it so that I receive mine by then? Christmas vacation is too far away. I will not wait that long.
I can't believe the whore beat me in potions.
I'll get down to 'business' now, or I'm afraid that you'll have another fit and call me not only disobedient but also fat and ugly. Because I have not mentioned Potter's current whereabouts in the first three words of this letter does not mean I have foregone the consequence of my duties. And I am NOT fat and ugly.
Well, daddy dearest, it pains me to say it but.. there. is. NOTHING. to. report. It's the same bloody routine every single day. Potter goes to breakfast, Potter goes to class, Potter goes to lunch, Potter goes to Quidditch practice. Potter goes to Gryffindor tower and remains there to wank off the day's stresses and begin the next day anew.
You know sir the last part does not sound like a half bad idea. I wonder if masturbating makes you fat and ugly. Don't worry father, I'll get to the bottom of that. I believe Potter has gained a bit and he's looking uglier these days..
Father, haven't you been gaining a considerate amount of weight lately?
In any respect, there is nothing going on. It's dreadfully boring, and I assure you that if Potter's ever vulnerable, then I'll make certain to take advantage of that opportunity. Then I'll gift wrap him and send him as a welcome back present to our dear lord, Tommy boy. Tell him, Draco sends his regards.
See, father? I'm the very epitome of obedience.
Now, one more subject to address, my birthday. Get me two things, an invisibility cloak and Granger's disfigured bloody head embedded on a pointy stick I am so ANGRY.
Tell Narcissa the chocolates were good.
Your obedient baby boy.. hm, that sounds affectionate. Can't use that then. How about the nice, unemotional, duty-filled word, 'heir'? It's much more fitting, don't you think?
Your one and only heir (infertility's a bitch, isn't it?) is becoming a man now. In honor of this, send your heir more money.
Respectfully yours, hugs and kisses and a whole lot of other rubbish,
Draco
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Draco signed his name with a flourish and scowled darkly at it as his thoughts turned to Hermione Granger. Week after week of being topped by the mudblood was working away on Draco leaving him entirely humorless and an absolute horror to be around. Lately everyone, his own house included, had taken to avoiding the irate young man at all costs.
The thick, pent-up air of frustration surrounding Draco was nearly visible to the eye, and anyone unlucky enough to be in his way barreled out of it for fear of encountering that sharp tongue now more stinging than ever and a poisonous sneer that promised nothing but pain and violence.
Potions was his best subject and he was Snape's favorite student. He studied for this, studied meticulously for the past month, foregoing food and sleep, and rivaling the study habits of an especially dedicated 7th year Ravenclaw preparing for Newts. He did his best.
And a mudblood, the very same mudblood of old, had beaten him. Again.
A mudblood should not be able to rival a pureblood, especially if the pureblood was a Malfoy determined to excel.
He snorted and flung his quill down in disgust, almost knocking over his blue ink bottle. He slouched back in his chair and stared vacantly at his bedroom's fireplace. The fire had gone out a long while ago leaving ash and soot in its place.
He's outdone by Potter and he's outdone by Granger. Those bloody Gryffindors always out to ruin or humiliate him. The few good things he could've been proud of were not his to boast about. He could've been the best Quidditch seeker and the best student by his own right.
Malfoys were not second best and here he was frustratingly in that position.
His thoughts led him back to his father and his own way of handling the superior. If such a situation ever presented itself to Lucius Malfoy he would've simply killed or incapacitated anyone who dared best him.
Coward. Idiot.
Draco was not like his father. He would be the best simply because he was the best and not because he had gotten rid of those that compromised his rank. Unless, of course, the ones that bested him were mudbloods or muggle lovers. Those born inferior and those foolish enough to embrace such backward people should not be allowed to consort with the purebloods in the first place.
They should remain completely separate or better yet eliminated, they are inferior and they could contaminate the bloodlines. They all should've died. Survival of the fittest and mudbloods weren't it.
If any such wizard or witch had bested him, it was entirely by bumbling idiotic chance.
Draco's eyes scoured his bedroom (immaculately clean as always) and traveled down to the table in front of him, eyes resting on his ink bottle. He picked it up and shifted it idly from hand to hand weighing it.
Bumbling idiotic chance.
But…
Granger had bested him on every day of every week of every month for the last 6 years. Chances do not come so often. How could a mudblood witch have the highest marks? She must be sleeping with the professors. There were no other possibilities. It was impossible for a pureblood to simply not be good enough.
He had steadfast ideals, values and beliefs. Granger being not only good but also the best rocked the boat.
It frightened him.
He set the ink bottle down and began to pick at invisible specks of dirt from his robes.
Maybe he should have a talk with Snape and get to the bottom of this.
He let out a tired, exasperated breath.
Maybe he shouldn't ask anything at all; he might get an answer that he wouldn't want to hear. Or maybe Hermione is the one exception to the rule.
Resolutely taking his mind off Granger and other unpleasantness, Draco leaned forward and skimmed over his letter. As he hoped, it was ruder and a little less respectful than his last letters. He smirked. His father would either have a conniption or find the letter amusing. He couldn't care less. Even if Lucius were to get upset, he wasn't much of a threat to Draco. He would not kill his only heir. Draco neatly rolled up the letter and tucked it away inside his robes.
He strolled out of his dorm leaving a locking spell in place and headed down to the common room. It was late in the afternoon and the room was empty save for Crabbe and Goyle who sat near the fireplace on chairs that looked ready to collapse from carrying all the excessive weight. Both were hunched over a table, eyebrows furrowed and writing on parchment. They appeared to be doing homework. Draco rolled his eyes.
Probably the report assigned weeks ago by Binns. Draco had already handed his in.
He slipped past them unnoticed. It wouldn't have mattered anyway if they saw him; he hadn't talked to them for ages. Draco had been a silent, brooding, solitary figure since the end of 6th year. He was glad to no longer share a dormitory with that pair of dimwitted oafs. Being a Prefect did have certain privileges after all.
He left the Slytherin dungeons behind and made his way down the empty corridors and up to the school owlery. The hallways were empty; most students were outside enjoying the last few days of warm weather. It would probably be the last peaceful summer that they would have. Once Potter graduated and left Hogwarts' protection then the Dark Lord's attack would be launched. Draco was looking forward to an all out war. To once and for all get rid of those that should not be in the Wizarding world in the first place.
The soft hoots of several owls and the flutter of wings became more apparent. He reached the owlery and peered in. There were hundreds of owls, most were sleeping and those that were awake were eating owl treats presumably given to them by their owners. He stepped in and immediately his nose wrinkled in disgust as his shoes met with the sticky, slippery surface of the droppings covered floor.
He would've used his own eagle owl, which had perched on his windowsill, but he always put an extra effort in annoying his father and this was one of those moments. He looked through the ranks of school owls in search for the most pitiful and elderly of the flock. At the far end, near the far wall, there was one tired looking, ruffled and obviously aged barn owl staring at him wearily. It was perched there alone and it looked like it was ready to fall over dead at any moment.
It also looked like it knew that Draco was looking for a sort like itself.
Draco smirked and made a beeline straight for that owl that hooted in protest. He tied his letter to it and he could've sworn that the owl had groaned outright. He held his arm out and let it perch upon him.
"Good bird." He said, pleasantly enough as he walked it to the open windows. "I need you to send this letter to Lucius Malfoy."
"Take your time, owl. No rush."
Draco flung the owl forward into the warm weather outside where it quickly lost control, diving several meters down before regaining air. It reached a tree, the closest one in sight, where it immediately took a nap. The journey so far had taken a lot out of it.
Draco snickered.
He hung around a bit longer, enjoying the view he had from being so high up. Students were scattered everywhere throughout the Hogwarts grounds. The Hufflepuffs were using the Quidditch field at the moment and were playing as mediocre as ever. Loyal and inadequate bunch the whole lot.
His thoughts ran to the only Hufflepuff that had left a mark on Hogwarts and only because of his death. Cedric Diggory, first casualty of the soon in coming war. Loyal and inadequate Diggory was dead before his 18th birthday.
His death made the war real to the students. Voldemort was suddenly a real threat to their lives, he was no longer just a frightening evil that took place in the past and now easily defeated by the boy who lived. Potter couldn't save them all. There were going to be casualties.
Draco wondered as he looked at the student body below him, how many were going to survive. How unlikely it was for any of them to reach old age without being affected. Many of them were probably going to take the lives of their fellow students.
Plenty of them were going to get killed, especially from the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses, the former where most of the active muggle and mudblood supporters were from and the latter where most of Deatheaters were from. The brainless Gryffindors were always ready to fight the good fight and the Slytherins were ambitious enough to fight to the death for the perfect world they envisioned.
Unfortunately for Potter, he was on the wrong side.
There was going to be blood and mayhem but at all ends, Potter's luck was going to run out and the Dark Lord was going to win.
"Fancy meeting you here, Malfoy."
Speak of the devil.
Draco scowled and turned around to find Harry Potter several steps away, staring at him intently. He had his snow owl perched on his arm and an envelope in the other. How did he manage to get so close without Draco noticing?
"Potter." He said simply, voice filled with scorn.
Of all the infuriatingly things Potter could've done, he simply stared at him dispassionately a bit longer and then ignored him completely, which vexed Draco to no end. It was like he had ceased to exist to Harry Potter, not significant enough to warrant attention. Inside he fumed in fury but he did not let any of that show, instead watching Potter coolly as he spoke quietly to his owl.
Potter had grown up.
There was an absolute confidence about him, almost arrogant. He was not easily agitated, and he watched and observed everything with single-minded intent. Harry had shot up over the 5th year summer and had filled out a bit, losing that perpetually starved look he had going on since childhood. He was tall, they were both tall but he beat Draco out by a few centimeters.
He was confident and had no need to prove himself to anyone. Draco absolutely hated him.
Harry stood beside him and crossed his arms over the windowsill, gazing out.
"Congratulations, Malfoy." He sounded amused. "You've now managed to anticipate my moves around the school. Should make spying on me that much easier."
Draco sneered and met Harry's amused eyes with a venomous glare. That bastard thinks everything in life leads to him.
"Despite what you may think, the world does not in fact, revolve around you, Potter."
Harry wasn't impressed with the look. "Really? Pity that." He shrugged, nonchalantly. "So what brings you here?
"Last time I checked, Potter, we were enemies. Enemies don't strike up friendly conversations with one another."
"So now you're my enemy?"
Draco just glared at him. Harry's eyes were wide in fake innocence and his eyebrows raised in inquiry.
"Yes, I am your enemy, you dolt."
"Nah, I don't think so." was his immediate reply. He gave the somewhat stunned Draco a shit-eating grin. Draco stared at him in confusion. Even if it was meant to get under his skin, this was the first time he had ever smiled at him.
"You've lost it."
"Maybe. You know what I think?" His voice was light, still tinged with amusement. He must have been toying with Draco and the Slytherin had more than enough.
Draco shoved past him and headed towards the door.
"I don't care what you think." He said over his shoulder. "Stay the hell out of my life Potter."
"I think you've grown up."
That gave Draco pause. He turned around, staring emotionlessly at Harry. The owls perched nearby were strangely quiet it was almost as if they were listening in on their conversation.
"And?" His voice was barren.
"And.." Harry advanced towards Draco until they were merely half a meter apart. He smiled sweetly. "I think you're cute."
Draco's eyes widened and he stared in bewilderment. His lips tried to form words but all he managed to do was sputter. He was completely unprepared for this unusual form of attack from the Gryffindor. Harry continued to smile.
Completely at a loss, and not knowing what else to do, Draco spun away and fled the owlery.
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A/N: 1) Any and all feedback would be very much appreciated.
2) I need some more betas especially those that are good at catching grammatical errors. If anyone's interested please email me privately saying so. (Please!)
3) Thanks for reading. :)