A/N: i'm really glad you have all liked the story so much so far. this chapter will explain draco's behaviour a little more and explain how i've reconciled it with his character for those of you who were worried about that aspect.

i just thought i'd warn you that this chapter doesn't have any dialogue in it, it mostly just explores draco's perspective.

Things were back to normal. As normal as they had ever been, mostly. Malfoy went back to insulting Ginny whenever he got the chance and sneering at her when he didn't. Parkinson tiptoed around him for a few days until she was sure he was "himself" again before hanging on his every word, and occasionally his arm, like always. Harry and Ron soon forgot anything weird had happened.

Ginny never gave any signs of preoccupation and refused to take up Malfoy watching as a new hobby. Hermione would have known if she had. The older girl was convinced there was more to what had happened then anyone knew, but she couldn't find anything solid enough to justify questioning.

Ginny, for her part, was preoccupied, but only slightly. She knew he was hiding something, but she couldn't figure out what. She knew he wasn't the clone of his father, but she didn't know how deep the differences went. He obviously wanted people to see him a particular way and she figured she knew why. She imagined it could be pretty dangerous for him to openly disagree with his father. If only there was a way she could help him…well, he knew she was there and he knew, or she hoped he did, that she would accept him for who he really was, and that was all she could offer. Any move on her part, she was sure, would only result in permanently closing any opening she had made for him.

If anything was noticeably different, Malfoy was even crueler than before. The venom that was always present in his voice was even icier, the sarcastic wit was even sharper, and the insults were even more personal. It was a dangerous game he was playing, and there were no rules except survival.

People needed to know that he held the same convictions his father did. People needed to know he showed no mercy and did whatever he pleased. People needed to think that he was a spoiled, arrogant, immature prat.

People could not see that he believed his father a fool. People could not know that he believed the weak should be protected and defended by the strong. People, and this could not be emphasized enough, could notthink of him as a mature young man.

He must, at all times, be considered a foolish and shallow child. People must natural and subconsciously refer to him a "boy." No one could know how deep he was. No one could know he was a philosopher at heart. No one could know that every move he made was considered carefully…well, almost every move. Defending Weasley really had been a mistake.

The reason he must remain nothing more than a boy in the eyes of the world was simple. It meant his life. If the "good guys" ever realized how intelligent, capable, and reasonable he was, and believed that his behaviour was born out of that, they would think him worse than his father and would be put away immediately. If they even suspected that it was an act they would probably end up exposing him before they could secure him. If the "bad guys" ever realized he was a "man" they would require him to take on the responsibility and role of a full death eater or they would see through him and kill him.

The reason he had not gone to Dumbledore and sought protection was two-fold. He could not leave his mother, it was that basic. He could not leave her to Lucius, especially not in a way that would undoubtedly incur the man's wrath, something that would be expressed regardless of whether or not the culprit was on the receiving end. Secondly, and not much less, was that he had never been convinced of Dumbledore's competency. He was a brilliant wizard, certainly, and his heart was in the right place, protecting the weak, but what exactly that protection entailed was the question.

Malfoy believed in the best interest of humanity first and individuals after. He had seen on too many occasions the reverse in Dumbledore. He was convinced that he would be able to achieve much more if he stayed where he was and bid his time.

The problem was fatigue. He was tired. He was incredibly tired of living this way. Everything was backwards. It seemed the more he admired and respected a person the more he was required to torment them. The exception, of course, being Harry Potter and entourage, them he had no difficulty torturing. Potter seemed convinced he was the only one in the world who had a difficult childhood and labored under the great weight of responsibility. Weasley had everything; a loving family, a warm home, friends, and he seemed ashamed of it all. Granger was just as arrogant as he was, nothing more than a stuck up little know it all.

Weasley the youngest, however, was different. She was like him. She watched the world around her and learned from it. She didn't classify people or categorize them and hand out labels. She was real and honest and saw the world.

He had been dealing with the weight of his mask just fine until he had held her and looked down into her unshielded eyes. How he had longed at that moment to have that freedom. How he longed for it still. His method of coping had worked flawlessly until he had seen the pain and confusion and tears and her eyes. How he wanted to explain. How he wanted her to understand. How he longed for that freedom.

A rock and a hard place, between them lay his heart. On the other hand, tormenting fellow students was an excellent way to release a little tension. If only it wasn't the source…

He sat there, in his room, reading, for the fifth time, the book he had borrowed from her. He had had it for over a month. He really should return it. If the marks in the back next to her name indicated how many times she had read it, it must be one of her favourites. Pride and Prejudice, he sighed as read.