Disclaimer: Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling. Kyah...yeah.
Summary: All you need during a war is just someone to hold onto.
A/N: Okay, so I've had this idea floating in my head all through church without anything to write it down on. It was killing me. Argh. Anyway, eh, some Draco/Harry drabble. Sap. Sorta. Pre-HBP

Definite Contrast

Potter had a fan club from the moment he stepped in the door of Hogwarts. He was worshiped practically everywhere he went. The Gryffindors adored him, the Ravenclaws respected him, the Hufflepuffs looked up to him. Everyone except us. It made me sick. I thought at first that I was jealous. But Draco Malfoy does not get jealous of anybody.

Then again, maybe I do...

He was always surrounded by his friends. Even now, with the war and everyone dying, he never seemed to go without someone next to him. It puzzled me greatly. Didn't he ever feel sad? I mean, half of his friends were dead! Even the fool that ran this school disappeared over the summer! I half expected him to break down at breakfast some day, but he never did. I don't think I could have taken it, if I had ever had real friends.

I hated Potter with a passion. But something about him just drew me in.

So when I saw him down in the Quidditch Pitch late one evening, I almost didn't know what to do.

He was sitting by the side of the field, sleeves rolled up and hair disheveled like he had just been flying, staring up at the hoops. His robes and what looked like an Invisibility Cloak were lumped into a pile a few feet away. I spoke to him.

"Hey."

He jumped, startled, perhaps by the sudden noise, or because I had greeted him almost civilly. I saw him wipe his face quickly before turning around and glaring at me.

"Go away, Malfoy," he said, though very half-heartedly. Instead, I sat next to him. As I suspected, he started getting mad and told me to piss off and leave him alone. I ignored him. I always did.

"Why are you crying, Potter?" I asked calmly. He looked infuriated.

"It's none of your business!" he said angrily .

"All right," I replied, and made to get up. Something finally snapped in his head, I suppose, and he tackled me as I tried to stand, forgetting about wands and just honestly trying to pound my head in. This had happened several times before, now more recently than ever. I figured it was because of all the stress in his life. I had plenty of stress, and I didn't go around instigating fistfights, now did I?

We scuffled onto the field, rolling across the grassy plain. I only got knocked on the head a few times. Potter wasn't exactly on form. I grabbed his arms and held him down. He was breathing heavily, and as we lay in the middle of the field tangled together, he calmed down slowly. I let go of his arms. He took the opportunity to wrap them around me, and started crying.

Ah. Now I knew. He had been holding all his feelings in. Just as I used to do. As I still do, partially. I stared up at the starry sky, impulsively running a hand through his raven black hair. Though, in this light, everything looked dark. I raised my other hand slightly, looking at it and sighing. They were so pale and delicate looking, like I had never done a hard day's work in my life. Truthfully, I don't think I have. My nails still managed to look manicured, though I hardly ever took the time to do that anymore.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't notice that Harry's sobs had receded until he took his own hand and intertwined it with mine. In the moonlight, I could see the definite contrast. His hands were rough and tanned, the nails bitten down in fits of worry. I could feel how tense he was just by clasping his hand in mine. I brought my hand down and rested it on my chest, Harry's moving with mine.

We lay there for quite some time, watching the few clouds that were in the sky move over the almost full moon, taking in the noises of the forest and the scent of the freshly trimmed grass. I had never felt so relaxed in my life. Kids this young didn't need to face the horrors of war. Harry, me, no one in this school deserved this. It was killing him slowly from the inside out. I bet that it was killing a lot of people in a lot of ways.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into Harry's tangle of dark hair, and got up. Harry followed without a word, only pausing to pick up his cloak and robes. I walked slowly up to the castle, savoring the feeling of carelessness I figured I would never feel again. You couldn't be just a kid in times like these.

When we got to the Entrance Hall, Harry stopped, looking wistfully at our hands that had not let go of each other yet. He let go, gave me a childlike, distressed hug, and disappeared up the stairs.

I could only manage to wonder about all this as I went to bed.

We never mentioned that night again. I didn't bring it up, he never said a thing. I figured it had been a spontaneous, one time only affair. Two people who just needed comfort. And that was the way I liked to keep it. Secret. Because sometimes all you need to do to make yourself happy in a bitter situation is recall something sweet from long ago, something that no one else knew, and just smile.

Tch, so okay, it's slightly OOC. Really OOC. Whatever. No matter what I try to make it stay IC, it always manages to stray towards the OOCnes. Woohoo. Leave comments and suggestions and all by clicking the little button in the left hand corner. Okie dokie?