I don't own any of these characters, they are owned by J.K Rowling.
Harry sat alone at one of the tables in the Library, absentmindedly turning the pages of a book. It wad Christmas and he was alone. Ron, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasleys (not Percy of course) were off to Romania to visit Charlie. Hermione was a home with her family. Most of the school went home on holiday, but there were always a few students left and there were even less this year. Unfortunately for Harry there was only one other person in his year; there were also two first years (a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw), a third year Slytherin that Harry didn't really know, and four Gryffindors (a second year, a fourth year, a fifth year, and a seventh year). Harry didn't even realize he wasn't the only person in the room.
"What's wrong, Potter, everyone finally get sick of you?" He looked up to find Draco Malfoy sneering at him.
"Don't start Malfoy, no one is around, you don't have need to keep up appearances." His eyes were red and his voice strained.
"Still on about Black?" Malfoy's voice lost its seemingly ever-present teasing tone.
"What do you think; he was the closest thing I had to a family." Harry snapped back.
"What about those muggles? Your mum's family, aren't they?"
"Yeah, the Dursley's they treat me four times worse than your dad did you."
Malfoy sat down across from Harry, grimacing. "What? My dad didn't----"
Harry cut him off, "just stop it Malfoy, I'm not stupid, we've all seen."
"Well," his face softened," he's not that bad, strict that's all." He looked down at the table top, "well, sometimes…"
"Why is it we fight all of the time? I didn't even know you first year…"
Malfoy scrunched up his face in thought. "My parents, they were on about you for years and…" His voice drifted off.
"And what?"
"And…um…it…," he mumbled a bit. "It might be jealousy," He suddenly became very interested in a book that was on the table in front of him.
"Jealousy?" Harry was shocked, Malfoy was jealous.
"Well, yeah. You're famous and all, and a hero," he furrowed his eyebrows, "everyone's protecting you all the time." Harry had only had such a fit three times before, all of which were last year. Once at Dudley for teasing him about his nightmares, once at Ron and Hermione for not telling him about the Order, and at Dumbledore after Sirius died.
"IT'S NOT LIKE I ASKED FOR IT. I DIDN'T WANT VOLDEMORT TO KILL MY PARENTS," Malfoy cringed, despite trying not to, "AND GIVE ME THIS SCAR. I DIDN'T WANT TO HAVE ATTEMPTS ON MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FIVE YEARS." Malfoy looked around, nervously.
"Of course you didn't ask for it, but your scar has made you famous, a bit of a celebrity in the wizarding world."
"IT'S CERTANLY HASN'T HELPED ME STAY ALVIE EITHER, AN ATTEMPT ON MY LIFE EVERY YEAR SINCE I WAS ELEVEN. I'VE FACED VOLDEMORT," Malfoy cringed, "FOUR TIMES."
"Okay I get it. But being famous has helped a little; people are always there to help. And Granger, Weasley, and Longbottom have been there most of the time."
"Sure it helps a bit, but in case you've forgotten, everyone hated me last year. Ron and Hermione were even mad at me, they still are." Malfoy watched as tears slid down Harry's face. Usually he would have used this as an opportunity to tease him, but now he felt remorse, he actually felt badly for him, he never thought he'd feel badly for him. Harry wiped his face and mumbled something about not knowing why he was telling him this, but he could tell be the look on Malfoy's face that he should go on. "The worst part about it is that last year, after Ron and Hermione got prefect and everyone had kept me in the dark on things, I wondered why they knew, why they got prefect. I thought I should have, I defeated Voldemort all those times, I saved the school, it was me …yet I get nothing. I get left out and locked up at the Dursely's and treated like…like a criminal!"
"I figured you'd get prefect. You know you do deserve it, you're the one who played the hero all those times, not them…but I guess you were the only one who could." Harry looked up with a quizzical look on his face.
"Huh?....the only one who could…?"
"My father, he said that you are the only one who can defeat …Him. That's why you are always the one to go on, to face Him. There's really no point in Weasley, or Granger, or Longbottom facing him, he'd only have to kill them to get to you, he doesn't need to kill them, he only wants you. But that will prove to be difficult without his supporters." Malfoy looked on the verge of tears.
"Look, I'm sorry your father was sent to Azkaban."
"No, it doesn't matter." Malfoy snapped back in return. Harry looked was taken aback. "Sorry, It's just he was really hard on me, you were right. It's just….everything's got to be perfect all of the time. That's why I am they way I am, 'Malfoy's are pure-bloods, and better than everyone else, especially all the mudbloods," his voice exactly like his father's. "And damn bloody annoying too." He shook his head, as if trying to erase the memory, and said quickly, trying to change the subject. "Professor Snape told me about the Occlumency lessons, remedial potions, honestly Potter, good one though, almost had me fooled."
"Bet he didn't tell you he stopped them before he was supposed to, though did he?" He could tell from the look on Malfoy's face he was right. "I found out something…something I wasn't supposed to…about Snape…and my parents."
"I'm not following."
"My father used to tease Snape, torture him, embarrass him. My mother defended him, she wasn't very happy with my dad, that's for sure."
Malfoy and Harry walked slowly to the Great Hall, the rest of the students that weren't on holiday joined them at the entrance. Since there were so few of them only one table was set for the meal. As everyone sat down several professors raised eyebrows at seeing Malfoy and Harry together, willingly. While the rest of the students and professors returned to their dormitories after they ate, Malfoy and Harry simply moved to another table.
"What do you suppose people will say when they find we've sort-of became friends? Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling.
"We haven't really got to tell them have we? I thought we could just play them a bit." A shadow approached them in the very dimly lit hall, a very large shadow.
"All right Harry? I thought I'd check on 'fore I went home, Dumbledore said you were here." Hagrid suddenly spotted Malfoy. "What're you doin' here, Malfoy? Makin' trouble no doubt."
"No Hagrid, it's fine." Hagrid watched them wearily for a time.
"All right then, 'night." Harry and Malfoy parted way in the corridor, and each headed to their common rooms.
Harry's POV
I never would have dreamed that Malfoy and I would be friends. He'd really not like I thought, that's not how he acted second year when we pretended to be Crabbe and Goyle. Maybe he's change, or it's an act, trying to hold up to his father's reputation. He laid down on his bed, not even changing into his bedclothes, and thought about it until he drifted off into sleep.
Malfoy's POV
I don't even know why he's friends with them; they have been half ignoring since the year started. Well, I guess I haven't been exactly nice to him, but my father would kill me if he knew. He'd barely closed his eyes when the sun forced him from sleep. He'd forgotten to close the drapes. Oh well I'm up I might as well do something.
He walked around the corridors and found himself in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. I know this is the entrance, but I need the password. Just then he spotted a second year Gryffindor. . "What's the password?" He raised his wand as a threat.
"No way."
"Fine, then just let me in, please?" He found Harry's room. Harry lie asleep, sprawled stomach down, still in his clothes. He walked around the room, Harry's trunk lie open at the end of his bed. Overcome with curiosity he went through it. A photo album lay at the bottom wrapped in an ornate cloak, he looked at it. Most of the photos were of Harry, Ron, and Hermione; there were a few of a family, a man, who looked a lot like Harry, a redheaded woman with stunning green eyes, an a bay boy with unruly black hair. Harry's parents, Lily and James. Bored with going through Harry's stuff he sat down in the chair next to Harry's bed.
He watched Harry as he slept. He looks so much older than his sixteen years, so worn out and tired. How does he manage it, how does he stay so grounded? There's no way I could do it, no parents, relatives who don't want me, an evil sorcerer trying to waste me. How does he defeat hi every time? He looks so weak, like he couldn't really hurt anyone. He's been through so much, and lost so many people close to him. Draco's thoughts raced so fast he could barely keep them straight, but eventually his mind cleared and his thoughts went calm.
Harry woke to find Draco asleep in the chair next to his bed. He looked at his watch, it was almost ten. Why is he in here? He got up and changed his clothes; they were creased from sleeping in them. Draco woke as Harry was changing shirts. He's really not as small as he looks; he's filled out some over the summer. Maybe he's not as weak as I thought. Malfoy found his face reddening slightly at the sight of Harry fumbling around for a shirt. What in the bloody hell am I thinking?
"Morning Harry." Malfoy stood and stretched.
"Morning. Um… what are you doing here?" Harry had found a shirt.
"I woke up early, I was bored."
"How'd you get in?"
"Begged a second year Gryff to let me in." They both laughed at the though of him begging to get in the rival house's common room. Harry reached around Draco to get his cloak, but something caught Draco's eye. He grabbed Harry's wrist, looking at the back of his hand. "What happened here?" Harry pulled around so he was standing next to Draco, so he could read what it said.
"Umbridge, last year. Her idea of lines, she bewitched the quill so that every time I wrote on the paper, it cut the same thing into my hand, after a while it didn't heal so well."
"That's sick." Then, realizing he was still holding Harry's wrist, he quickly dropped it, his face reddening again. They walked around the grounds, having nothing else to do.