Warnings: SLASH. You don't know what it is? Then I seriously doubt that you want to be here.

A/N: I am using a Japanese version of word to write this, so I've been having issues with boxes. However, I *think* that they have now been fixed. :crosses fingers:

Couplings: H/D, D/Blaise, potentially R/Hr. No, sorry people, this is not a fic where the entire wizarding population is queer.

Spoilers: Potentially everything. Just cause I don't have the supplement books yet means nothing.

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except for the story. Nothing. The story- is fully conceived and waiting to be written. The characters- I borrow.

Chapter Three: Paper Faces

Or, The Magician

Draco Malfoy did not think about Harry Potter half as much as the Hogwarts population assumed he did; after all, he had his own life. Not that many people would believe it. Looking up from his mess of food, Draco stared out at the school. He was only mildly gratified when it stared back. Truthfully, Draco did not mind if most people thought otherwise- there was much to be gained from the fact that Hogwarts was operating under a misapprehension as to what he really did with his time. So if he occasionally sneered or mouthed off at the Boy Wonder it was more in the way of keeping up appearances than anything else. If it hadn't been so important for Draco to maintain a solidly pitch front to his audience he would have stopped the charade ages ago.

Point number one: The whole thing wasn't getting old- it was old. As much as Draco had enjoyed the sensation of twirling his villain's moustache in first and second year, the whole thing had long since become stale. Number two: He did not buy his way onto the Quidditch team. Draco had not needed to. If Terence had a father as obsessed with perfection as Draco's was, then maybe he would have flown better in tryouts. So yes, maybe some galleons did pave Draco's way onto the house Quidditch team, but only if one can consider intensive flying lessons at age six bribery. Yet as much as the accusations of bribery rankled Draco's pride, he did everything he could to encourage them. It was in the script. The question of how Draco really felt about Quidditch was never, and never would be, an issue. Number three: He was a Malfoy. Not that most of the peons present at Hogwarts knew what that meant, but it mattered. Number four: There was absolutely nothing wrong with him. Nothing. And damn his father, Dumbledore, and everyone else for saying otherwise. Number five: Potter.

It was this last one which made the rest of the situation so utterly unbearable; if Draco was required to maintain a charade, even when his life was coming down around his ears, the least he could ask for would be some support from the other lead. Draco doubted if anyone in his audience knew how difficult is it to play villain to something than can no longer be classified as a person, let alone a hero. While Potter had seemed content for years to play against Draco