Draco Malfoy ran through the halls of Hogwarts, his broom clutched in his hand. You weren't allowed to run in the hallways, of course, but that was mainly a rule to prevent 7th years from running over firsties. So long as he stuck to sidepassages and disused corridors, he was perfectly alright. The only Professor who patrolled those was Snape (Filch cleaned, but did so generally after hours - the better to find stupid sneaking students).
Had the Troublesome Twins seen him, they might have remarked at his haste, or at his uncharacteristic solitude. His attitude would have seemed normal, at any rate - he was pretty much always standoffish, even to Slytherins. Few would notice the simple words he gave to the Slytherin firsties - particularly as he often managed to whisper them when the Common Room was nearly empty.
Outside the castle, Draco Malfoy jumped on his broom, "Up Up" he thought, streaking through the sky like a stunner in flight. He pulled up at the height of the Astronomy tower, scaring a few children who were not expecting a third year to be witness to their assignations. Not that he'd tell, of course.
Slowly, he let himself flow into the forms of a Seeker, the barrel rolls and loop-de-loops. They had been practiced so long that they were nearly instinctive. He dodged between the towers of Hogwarts (mostly avoiding Gryffindor tower, he didn't want to be accused of spying). He always thought best when he was on a broom, anyway.
And thinking would be a good idea right now, Draco Malfoy thought with some chagrin, struggling to pull back in his scattered thoughts; they seemed fit to fly away at the slightest motion from him. What stuck with him were emotions. Rather a lot of emotions at that. He, well, to be frank, wasn't sure what he was feeling about the concept of Harry Potter being alive. Was he furious? Outraged? Excited? Joyous? It seemed like he was all of those, and quite a few more. He continued to dance through the sky, letting his emotions take physical form in the steep banks and fast turns that he was used to.
Hours later, he found that his mind had stilled, that all the emotions had been washed away - along with the sweat dripping out of his eyes. All that was left was a burning curiosity.
[a/n: You try being told that your chief rival, who you had thought dead, was actually alive. And Draco's pretty sure there's some vast scheme going on, that he hasn't even begun to unravel. Yeah, you're good if you feel betrayed and elated, mournful and incensed at once.
Leave a review! (And I'm grateful no one's cussing about me spending 10,000 words of a Harry Potter story without Harry Potter. Gonna be a bit longer before he shows up, too).]