Title: My Enemy

Setting: End of summer, Beginning of sixth year. Grimmauld Place.

Summary: Harry is ready for another year at Hogwarts when someone rudely interrupts his life MM pairing/slash; don't read if you're against male/male pairings. DM.HP. [OoTP spoilers]

Rating: R. (Violence, language, ect.)

Author's note: So, this chapter is in Draco and his point of view. He's depressed, but also not at the same time. The only time he's depressed is when he drowns himself in his sorrows but is slowly getting passed that because of the Order accepting him. His problem is, the one person he wants to be accepted by the most wont even talk to him...This story starts when Harry says all those things about Draco.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Two: Raven-hair

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The words echoed through my head. Everything he said was true. That is what I am, I'm scum, I'm dirt, and I'm slime. New tears shone in my eyes, and I laughed at myself.

Harry was right. I shouldn't be trusted so easily, I had a deatheater for a father. I'm glad Dumbledore had taken me in; he was always a good guy I suppose. Though, it was true he took a certain liking to muggles that made my father go red with rage.

I looked out the window, my breath slow. Nothing interested me anymore. I had become just an empty life.

My eyes gazed at Harry while he walked out to the garden to think. I felt guilty for making him miserable, but I have nowhere to go. I watched as his hands viciously made their way through his unruly raven-hair and his brilliant emerald, hypnotic orbs stared at the sky. I had the perfect view.

I could barely make out the words his lips were forming. I do know what they were about, however. About how much he loathed me, how much wanted me to leave. Once this week was over I'll never disturb him again. I'll be back at Hogwarts and he'll never cross my path.

I watched as Harry laid his head against a large tree. I didn't let my eyes leave his sight, he comforted me in a way no one else could. Even though he hated me, he still comforted me.

A long breath escaped my mouth and I watched as Harry slowly stood up. My heartbeat quickened as he head for the door. I didn't want him to leave. When he had disappeared from my sight I walked over to my bed.

The pillow was soft under my throbbing head. I closed my eyes as memories flood over me. I started to shiver when I saw my fathers grey eyes look at me with hatred. I cried out as his wand pointed at my face, ready to kill.

A memory of my dead mother came into view. I watch helplessly as my father beat her, killed her. My eyes closed tightly, and the question rang in my ears. Why?

I opened my eyes, breathing frantically. I held my wrist towards my eyes. My silver watch read 7pm. I threw my hand back down off the bed. Sweat dripped from the side of my face and I closed my eyes, my breathing ragged.

A knock on my door startled me; I sat up and drank the glass of water on my nightstand. My voice was cracked when I told the person on the other side to come in.

I'm surprised at what I saw. Harry Potter was watching me. I closed my eyes; I didn't want to hear him insult me again. I just wanted him to leave, I wanted to watch him in secrecy and hold on to the small amount of hope I had. I didn't want him to take away my hope.

"Malfoy." His voice was icy and I cringed.

I forced a smile, to hide my true thoughts. A blank expression was on my face and he scowled. "Evening, Harry." I said, my words sincere. I wanted so much for him to accept me.

"Get downstairs, you have a meeting to attend." He said, even more cold. I know why. I was allowed to attend meetings because I had information on the deatheaters. He wanted to attend the meetings, of course he should be allowed to. But Dumbledore wanted to protect him and wouldn't let him hear anything that could shatter his fragile state. I smiled again and nodded as he left my room.

I threw off my sweaty pants and undershirt. Scars and large purple bruises accented my pale skin. I trailed my finger down a large scar my father made with a sword when he found out I didn't make the Quidditch team. Another finger trailed across a red patch of skin. My father whipped me four times for crying about him not taking me to diagon alley. I was only six at the time.

Finally my finger reached the scar that Lupin saw. I knew he thought I was cutting, which I wasn't. The scar he saw was from a small knife that my father used when I disagreed to him about his idea of muggles. Ever since Lupin saw my scar, I had been using a concealment charm. I wouldn't heal the scars away; I made sure each and one of them never faded. They were my punishment, my reminder.

I pulled on a white V-neck sweater and a pair of blue denim jeans. Even though I was free of my father, my style and taste hadn't worn off. I swiftly brushed my hair so that it fell over my eyes. I liked it better that way. I looked fresh and innocent. A look I enjoyed very much.

When I opened the door I saw Granger and Weasley bickering in a far corner of the hall. Suddenly Granger's pink lips formed into a pout and Ron turned red and started to apologize. I smiled at their strange relationship, it seemed they were very happy.

I could feel Harry's eyes pierce through my back when I passed the kitchen and entered the Meeting Hall. He watched me intently before I closed the door and disappeared behind it.

"Draco, how nice of you too join us. I hope you're adjusting alright." Said Arthur Weasley, his smile sincere. I felt so cruel. I caused these people so much pain with my taunts and insults and there they were accepting me like I'm as precious as their golden boy.

A smile touched my lips and I nodded. "Everything's fine." I said, avoiding Lupin's eyes that can obviously tell I'm lying.

Dumbledore looked at me, his eyes friendly. I could tell he was practically looking into my soul, discovering my secrets. I smiled at him, my eyes blank.

When the meeting was finally over I was last to walk out the door, thinking over what they told me. They wanted me to find out information about the Deatheaters. I didn't know how I'd do it but I would, I would risk my worthless life to fight for these people I treated so badly.

I stepped out of the room, my eyes locking with emerald ones. I looked away quickly, afraid to let out my emotions. Molly Weasley was ranting on about how I should eat more; all I could offer her is a small reassuring smile and a bite of dinner. She pursed her lips and looked away, ready to ramble about eating to Harry. He offered her a bit more then I could. A large smile and a sweet laugh, she didn't purse her lips at him. Only smiled and shook her head.

Hermione took a seat beside me and I watched as Harry's eyes flashed with anger. I wished she wouldn't do this, wouldn't make him feel like I'm stealing his friends. But her kindness soothed me. She always patted me on my shoulder or hand and gave me a caring smile. Ron Weasley, someone I've provoked all the years I've been alive, was also smiling at me. I don't understand how these people accepted me so openly; all I knew was that I'm glad for it.

I walked towards my room, leaving half my dinner behind. I felt eyes watch me sadly and I shook my head. I couldn't take the attention anymore.

Harry left a while ago, I didn't know where to but he was gone. I felt I didn't need to be there anymore

Slowly I walked towards my bedroom, my head spinning dizzily. When I entered it, what I saw made my heartbeat quickly and a sudden cold shiver took over my body.

Harry Potter was on my bed reading my journal. I screamed out and charged at him, grabbing it from his hands.

Harry looked at me, his emerald eyes shone with fear. I threw the journal aside and pushed him up against the wall, holding him by his collar.

"Malfoy let go of me!" I heard him say. But my rage has over taken my body; I don't even let the sweetness of his voice get to me. I just shake him, causing him to cry out.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hear myself scream at him, spit leaving my mouth to land on the frames of his round glasses.

He closed his eyes, as my hand climbed up ready to punched him. Suddenly I threw him away from me, and fell on my bed. My hands were on my head, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I heard my father laughing maniacally as he punched my stomach and caused me to gag. Blood dripped form my mouth. I would have died if it weren't for one of the house elves finding me.

"How much did you read." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. I had that journal since I was seven years old. My deepest secrets were in it. I never charmed it because I always hid it. I hadn't found a hiding place for it yet, in Grimmauld Place.

"Hardly anything." Said Harry squinting at me.

I scoffed. "Yeah right."

He came closer to me and frowned. "Your father beat you."

I felt rage take my body again and I clenched my fists and girt my teeth. "Yes!" I hissed. Harry cringed as my words sounded snake-like.

Harry sat beside me and my rage slowly inched away. My breath was ragged as I closed my eyes, trying to remember the last time Harry came this close to me willingly. Nothing came, he never did.

"Why didn't you leave him?" Said Harry, his voice was so soft it felt far away.

My shoulders lifted in a shrug. I smirked to myself. "Because I had a reputation to uphold."

A long sigh escaped my foe. He looked at me, his emerald eyes gentle. "Sorry." He said, warily.

I glowered at him. "Exactly how much did you read, Potter?"

Harry smiled regretfully and I cringed. "To the part about making Hermione cry in the second year and about the slugs." He said.

I hit my fist hard on my bed. He had read at least halfway through. "So I guess you know that I like the stupid muggles."

Harry let out a small sigh. "And about how when you bought a muggle movie your father threw it at you. How old were you again?" He said stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Nine." I said watching as he smiled at me.

"Also about how you felt insecure around me." He said, inching a little closer towards me. I frowned. What was he playing at?

"Yes, you rejected me. I can't handle rejection." I said truthfully, looking away from Harry.

"I only rejected you because you were a prat." Harry said, frowning at his hands.

I smirk. "True." I said looking at his hands as well.

Reassurance settled in my stomach. He hadn't read further. He hadn't read the intimate parts about him. About how all of my comfort and hope was because of him.

There was silence for a while then Harry looked at me. His eyes dazed. I felt a hand intertwine with my own and looked down. His tanned hand was stroking my pale one. A lump formed in my throat and I gradually swallowed it.

"Harry?" I asked, wonderingly. "What-what are you doing?"

He didn't answer me, just gazed at me intensely. I cleared my throat and was about to release my hand from his when he did something very unusual.

He took his free hand and trailed it down my cheek, leaving a tingle on my face. I shuddered and closed my eyes, savouring the feeling. "Harry." I whispered as his fingers lingered on my lips.

"I'm here now, Draco." He whispered back.

Then it hit me, he most likely did read further then I thought.

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Notes: Did you like it? I tried to make you realise why Draco is so out of character. That this is his true character and the evil was just a mask he wore. Anyway, next chapter is Harry's point of view. Thanks to all that reviewed; next chapter will be up a.s.a.p!

-Shadow