When your crumbling world falls apart

It was Sunday afternoon and Harry was sitting in his usual place in front of the window. He was alone this time. He hadn't seen Draco since their... Harry really didn't know what to call it. They had fought before, obviously, but it wasn't like their other fights. Draco was different, somehow. He seemed almost lost.

Harry suspected Draco's state of confusion was due to his father's still ongoing imprisonment. The Dementors had already left Azkaban, or actually they had been forced to leave by the ministry. It seemed like Fudge was trying to patch up for his prior mistakes by ensuring that those Death Eaters who had been caught in the Department of Mysteries were kept under heavy surveillance. Harry thought it was stupid of Fudge, really, wasting the Aurors' resources with such a petty task. The fact that one of the captives was Lucius Malfoy, Fudge's 'personal friend' had not gone well with the public.

Harry heard the door open and shut in the main room. Harry couldn't see to the door from his armchair, so he could only guess who it was. He was guessing it was Draco.

Harry thought briefly if he should let the slytherin know he was here, but decided against it. Draco would probably be able to tell, anyway, from Harry's 'panting', as Draco had put it the day before. It seemed Harry hadn't been the only one having trouble concentrating.

15 minutes later Harry realized there was someone standing at the entrance of the alcove. Harry turned his head to look at the blonde. 'He looks tired' Harry thought absent-mindedly before Draco spoke.

"I'm not devoted to the Dark Lord" Draco said. "I'm devoted to my father."

Harry frowned before he understood that Draco was referring to their fight from yesterday. What was he going to say to that, anyway? Harry knew Draco was fiercely proud of his father. And could he really blame the slytherin for being loyal to his parents. Harry wondered if he could ever have turned against his own father about anything, had James Potter still been alive? After all, the man had loved him enough to protect him with his life.

He focused his gaze to Draco's eyes. "And is he devoted to you?"

Draco snorted. "My father?"

Harry frowned again. There was obvious bitterness in Draco's voice. Was he doing this for his love for his father or not? Harry felt frustration sweep over him once more. Draco was hiding in his father's shadows, refusing to make the choice for himself.

Harry thought for a moment before he spoke again, pulling his thoughts together. Draco was surprisingly silent, waiting attentively for whatever it was that Harry had to say. This made Harry want to choose his words with extra care.

"No matter what your choice will be, it'll still be just that: your choice" Harry spoke while keeping his eyes locked with Draco's. "Even if you choose to do what you think your father expects you to do. And when you realize one day that you have wasted your life away, you won't be able to blame it on anyone else. Not Voldemort, not your father nor me. It'll be your fault."

Draco stared at Harry for a moment before lifting his chin and turning away from the entrance. Harry waited for a moment, but he never heard the door being slammed shut. Silently he stood up from his chair and walked to the entrance and looked at the room.

Draco was standing in the middle of the little path leading to the door. He had his back turned, but Harry could see that he had his arms wrapped around himself. Harry felt a strange urge to hug the boy standing not far from him. Harry dismissed it automatically. He wasn't even a touchy-feely kind of person.

He walked slowly up to Draco and leaned carefully on the old chest of drawers on Draco's right. Draco was still staring in front of him, and didn't acknowledge Harry's presence.

Harry was feeling bad for his harsh words from earlier. It was obvioushe had hit a nerve with them. He still couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy, the proudest slytherin of the school, was in fact so lost. In the back of his mind, Harry realized he should actually be happy that Draco wasn't a Death Eater to the core like everybody had always assumed.

"Our existence on this planet is so insignificant, Draco" Harry said carefully. "Your life is meaningless to everyone except yourself and those who love you."

'Shite.' Harry grimaced mentally. 'That didn't come out so well, did it?'

Harry decided to keep silent and wait for Draco's answer. The blonde just kept staring in front of himself, arms wrapped around himself. Harry felt another urge and he slowly reached out with his left hand and landed it on Draco's back. Harry was about to pat it when he remembered the last time he had patted Draco's back and the way the slytherin had bolted. So Harry tried to save what could be saved and started rubbing small circles instead.

Draco still didn't say anything, but suddenly he lifted his left shoulder and rubbed his cheek with it. Then he turned his head and faced Harry. Harry could see a wet trail leading from Draco's left eye to his cheek where it disappeared abruptly.

Draco's voice was a bit strained, when he said "Well, that isn't very many people, now is it?"

Again, Harry didn't know what to say. They stared at each other for a moment before Draco moved to the couch and opened his transfiguration book.

Harry let his hand fall in his lap and studied Draco for a moment before he retreated to the safety of his alcove once again.

Title of the chapter from The Miracle of Love by Eurythmics