The Many Phases of Love

A/N: A little flashback is in order.

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Attention

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The night before Draco was to leave for Hogwarts his father called him to his study.

"Son," Lucius Malfoy said, placing a hand on the child's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze of confidence. "Tomorrow you will be attending Hogwarts. You are expected to be in Slytherin and to uphold the family honor. I wanted for you to go to Durmstrang but your mother wanted somewhere closer to home. However, there is another reason why I agreed to her wishes."

Draco stared up at his father, trying not to widen his eyes in eagerness but in polite interest as Lucius had taught him.

Lucius gave a tiny sneer. "You know about Harry Potter, don't you?"

Draco's heart quickened just slightly. Of course he'd heard stories about the Boy Who Lived, from Lucius and Narcissa separately. Or snippets from the house elves, though Draco was quick to dismiss those as inaccurate drivel. Draco nodded.

"Good. I'll tell you to pay no heed to what other people say, Draco, because they do no know the truth about Harry Potter," Lucius warned in a disdainful tone, unknowingly sparking interest in Draco's mind. What sort of other versions were there about Harry Potter?

"Potter will also be going to Hogwarts as a first year. Draco, you will befriend him and bring him to Slytherin. This is what you have to do for me. Do you understand, son?"

The little blond boy didn't because he'd always thought that his family despised The Boy Who Lived and now his father wanted Draco to be his friend? But it was never good to question Lucius' motives and so Draco bobbed his head. His father smiled and in the torchlight it was almost as warm as the fiery glow.

"Do not disappoint me, Draco."

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Draco haughtily walked into the compartment and then stopped in surprise to find the dark-haired boy he'd met at Madam Malkin's inside. He knew that Harry Potter was in this compartment. The rumors were fast spreading and Zabini had vowed at its authenticity. So the spectacled, rumpled-haired boy was Harry Potter?

Draco felt a rare feeling of agitation. The boy had already rejected Draco's offer of friendship months ago, when all Draco had wanted was to befriend the boy with the messy hair and the horrible clothes even despite the fact that Draco thought he might be a Mudblood or half-blood. There had been something about the boy that had drawn Draco to him.

At that time in Madam Malkin's, Draco had wanted to impress him.

But it hadn't happened that way. As Draco spoke more and more, the boy had retreated into himself, sporting an unwelcome look for Draco and everything he talked about. He had felt a mixture of hurt and indignation and felt those feelings resurface when the boy – Harry Potter – turned to look at Draco and his friends with the same unfriendly expression on his face.

Draco noticed that beside Harry was a tall, familiar boy with a shock of red hair and freckles across his face. This was a Weasley, Draco was sure. He'd seen one of them in Diagon Alley months ago and everyone in that family had the same features aside from the hair and freckles. A sudden idea blossomed in Draco's mind. Perhaps now that Harry could compare someone inferior like a Weasley to Draco then the boy would surely pick him over the redhead. After all who would pick a Weasley over a Malfoy?

Puffing his chest a little, Draco lifted his chin and spoke in the most confident drawl he could muster. "Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

But it seemed that the moment Draco opened his mouth, Harry shrank away from him like he did at the robes store. When Weasley sniggered insultingly at his name Draco couldn't help but retort back and offering Harry his hand in friendship.

Harry glanced sharply at him. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

This caused that same awful feeling to spread over Draco's chest and he flushed in anger. His father had taught him that one should never, never tip off to the other person that one was glad, angry or interested. He had to maintain aloof at all times. It was a lesson Draco thought he had learned but instead, he felt his face growing hot in humiliation and started saying things automatically. Ron and Harry stood up defensively and it resulted into a minor scuffle. Draco heard footsteps and quickly hissed at Goyle and Crabbe to leave. They exited the compartment in a rush, Draco arranging his hair and robes. He felt like a complete fool, losing his calm and lashing out blindly, something a Malfoy never did.

Draco knew that Crabbe and Goyle were staring at him and he whirled around at them, haughty look fixed in place. "Potter is just like what we've heard from the stories, isn't he? He deserves to be with blood traitors like the Weasleys." The two bigger boys nodded slowly and Draco was satisfied that they wouldn't think that he'd actually wanted to be Harry Potter's friend. His hands clenched as he thought of Potter's rejection and how it hurt – disgraced him.

Only then did Draco remember his father's task for him and Draco had failed. Lucius Malfoy did not take well to failure especially when it came from his only child. Draco had become so caught up in his unexpectedly genuine desire to become Potter's friend that he'd forgotten that the most important thing of all was not to let his father down. But he had and Draco shuddered inwardly at the thought of his father's disappointment – and what it would mean for him.

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Father and Mother,

I've been sorted in Slytherin as expected. So have the rest of my friends. The dormitory is cold but there's a fireplace and I've already taken over the armchair nearest to the warmth. It had been previously owned by a seventh year nobody. Professor Snape is our Head of House but I don't have to rely on his favoritism because I know I will be the best at everything. Our rooms are large but I still have to share with Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Nott. I would have preferred my own rooms but Professor Snape said that they were only available for fifth years and up. I'm settling in nicely. As you warned there are a lot of Mudbloods and lovers in this school but I'll keep away from them.

Your son, Draco

PS: Father, Potter has chosen a Weasley over our hand. The Weasley had insulted our name and I responded in kind – which is only the truth – forcing Potter to defend him and view me as the villain and he was sorted into Gryffindor as a result. I'm sorry to have disappointed you. I'll try to make Potter see sense.

Draco chewed on the top of his quill, a new habit he was forming as he reread through his letter carefully. He knew that whatever he wrote his father would still be angry at him. Draco only hoped that his mother placated Lucius. He was starting to hate Harry Potter for making his life complicated. If only the other boy had taken his hand then Draco wouldn't be here writing this letter to Lucius. He knew that Potter wouldn't be persuaded to join him, especially since he was in Gryffindor and suddenly Ron Weasley's best friend. It would mean more problems with Lucius later and the blond vowed to make Potter pay.

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His father had immediately written back that he was not allowed to return home for the holidays and that the broomstick Draco had wanted wouldn't be bought. Fortunately, Narcissa had managed to convince her husband to let Draco come home, although she could do nothing for the Nimbus 2000, thought Draco with a wry twist of his lips. It had been a disastrous first year, receiving detentions and losing points for his House. Then Potter had to become the youngest seeker of the century and won spectacularly for every game he played. Draco had seethed and seethed with anger, the hatred he felt doubling with every year that passed. The thing that most sunk beneath Draco's skin was the fact that Potter obviously shared everything with Weasley and Granger. It pricked at him every time, making him remember when he used to want to be Potter's friend.

Then last year, as his fifth year was ending, his father had been brought to Azkaban and all the pressures of the family fell on Draco's shoulders. His grudge against Potter grew and grew. He exacted his revenge in any way possible when sixth year began. It had been marvelously fun to antagonize the Wonder Boy but even that had faded with time, something Draco had thought impossible until it happened. It was like he'd exhausted every emotion he had for Harry Potter until he felt nothing but apathy and it was such a relief to realize that he wanted nothing more to do with Potter. It meant that he could finally look past him and actually start to overcome other people, such as Granger when it came to schoolwork.

His obsession with Potter was dead and Draco couldn't be happier.

-

"Potter has been staring at you," Pansy commented offhandedly as she passed Draco the garlic roots to be chopped up. She wasn't a genius in Potions and Draco liked everything to be perfect so did the most important things himself. "And you haven't been noticing. It's like the world has turned upside down. You are still Draco Malfoy aren't you?"

Draco serenely chopped the roots, his movements graceful and precise. Next to him their cauldron bubbled cheerfully, the perfect color of mauve that would certainly earn a grudging tilt of lips from Snape. "Are you implying that I am some sort of attention-whore?"

"If it's from Potter, then yes." Pansy glanced meaningful two tables away from their right where Potter was partnered with Weasley.

He couldn't refute that as much as Draco was loathed to admit it. He'd done so many embarrassing things over the years just to have Potter's attention and it always backfired somehow. He was glad that phase was over. "Pass the frog's liver."

Pansy wrinkled her nose in distaste as she levitated the preserved organ in front of Draco, who had no qualms about touching it but threw a fit when one of his robes had a water stain. "Don't change the subject, Draco. We've all noticed that something has changed. You haven't come up with a single prank against Potter in weeks and suddenly you've been ignoring him even in front of us. Usually you would be giving us a running commentary on the atrocious way he holds his quill, or how his hair has never felt the 'loving touch of a comb' or how irritating the sound of his sneakers are when he walks by and et cetera."

Pansy was a lovely girl, devious and manipulative, but she talked too much and always bluntly, sparing no one's feelings. He should have picked someone less chatty like Zabini but Draco hadn't felt like being molested during class. Ever since Blaise had discovered sex a few months ago he'd become some sort of pervert, feeling up anything that moved (well, anything that wasn't Gryffindor or Filch or the professors). Still, their table would be much quieter.

"It's none of your business," Draco replied primly.

"It most certainly is," Pansy argued, pushing her rather flat nose into the air. Her brown eyes flashed challengingly at the blond. "Or have you forgotten the many stunts you've planned and the Slytherins have suffered for? You had the vendetta, Draco, and we were your marionettes to accomplish it. Therefore, you owe me – and I will just relay your answer to the others – an explanation."

Draco glared at her knowing it wouldn't work. Pansy was one of the few people who actually knew who Draco Malfoy was. She was also one of the few who could pull his strings prettily.

"All right," Draco relented with a shrug. He picked up his wand and began a clockwise motion above the cauldron and watched as the magic stirred the potion. It was not that Draco was being lazy; the potion required magic for stirring to activate the more latent ingredients. "I have come to realize that Harry Potter is nothing but an ordinary person."

Pansy gaped at him, stunned. Through the years, the Slytherins have always advocated the idea that the Boy Who Lived was just like everyone else but in reality they knew that he was somehow special, although not in the same way the Gryffindors might have seen Potter as exceptional. It was an instinctive reaction to belittle the person who outwardly challenged their own beliefs the most. Draco has always been the one who protested vehemently about the special treatment Potter received, knowing that some of it were merited, and that thought rankled the blond even more deeply and caused him to voice out that Potter was the exact opposite of what was the truth.

Pansy was perfectly justified to be so shocked. Pansy scanned his face for any signs of teasing but found nothing but the truth in the relaxed set of his features. She shook her head and lowered her voice. "What do you mean? Have you forgotten that he's encountered the Dark Lord and survived through every one?"

Draco's eyes were fixed on the potion, watching as the magic became a visible bright swirl in the liquid. "Incredible things happen to him, Pansy, but he's not as unique as we all thought. He's just another boy, someone who fails in Potions but receives decent marks in his other subjects. He's illogical and thick. He's even becoming prey to teenage hormones if you haven't noticed. He eats, drinks, sleeps and shits like the rest of us. He isn't even that powerful, for Merlin's sake."

Some of it made sense while others did not. "Draco, I thought we've established that, even if we absolutely hate every messy strand of hair on Potter's head, extraordinary things happen to him because he may be above the average person in some unfathomable way?"

But before Draco could answer, an explosion the likes which had never been heard of before rocked the classroom. It was only the temporary sticking charms of each cauldron to the table that saved the rest of the class from having upended potions all over themselves. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the spare ingredients that fell all over the students' heads. People shrieked in shock and fear and disgust.

Draco was helping Pansy up before brushing off the crushed butterfly wings off his robes. He glanced around the room fully expecting to see a spectacular hole where Longbottom's table used to be but instead saw that the Gryffindor was sprawled over the table's surface, table still intact and not in flames.

"POTTER!"

Ah, so that was why.

Snape descended on Potter with a new kind of fury that was frightening to watch, even for the Slytherins, wand pointed at the charred remains of Potter's cauldron. Snape's pallid face was spotted with color, his greasy hair and robes coated with the red ink he had been using to grade their essays. Weasley, who was drenched in their botched potion and his fringe charred, looked like he was torn between supporting his friend and inching away.

Draco saw that Potter was completely untouched but looked utterly bemused and nervous as Snape loomed over him. He should have come off worse than Weasley but wasn't. Draco puzzled over this before Snape spoke and stole everyone's attention.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Snape demanded with a harsh punctuation on each word. His voice dripped lethal venom that just promised unimaginable torture for the Gryffindor.

Potter swallowed, clutching his wand tighter. "Nothing! I was just about to light the cauldron when all of a sudden it exploded! I did nothing else!"

The worse thing was that Potter looked so earnest that Draco was certain it only sparked Snape's rage further. The Professor seemed to swell with volatile emotion and most of them expected Snape to do something unexpected like hit Potter.

"You stupid, idiotic, brainless, foolish imbecile of a boy!" Snape was close to yelling but just managed to keep it under a shout. Still, the force of his anger was enough to cause Potter to flinch. "Do you know that you're lucky the entire room didn't burst into flames?! Detention forever, Potter, and so help me your children will still be cleaning cauldrons – "

"Severus, I think you've quite made your point," a mildly amused voice spoke from the doorway and everyone turned to see the Headmaster standing at the door.

Snape glared at Albus Dumbledore sourly before he took a deep calming breath, his face twisted in an expression that begged for patience. He could not believe he lost his calm and practically was screaming in Potter's face even if it had felt wonderful. "Headmaster, surely you wouldn't object to…to this boy's detention."

"Clearly not," Albus responded. "You are free to give him detention, Severus, but only after I have a few words with Mr. Potter in private and yourself subsequently." He cast twinkling blue eyes around the chaotic room. "I suggest that everyone who has some form of injury go see Madam Pomfrey and the rest should relax themselves after this fiasco. We could ask the house elves to clean the mess. What do you think, Severus?"

Draco thought that Snape would rather disembowel himself than give his students a free ticket out.

"I agree," Snape acquiesced tightly, looking near to pain. "But I ask Potter to return after your talk to clean up. Without magic."

Potter looked stricken but nodded hastily.

"Perfect," Dumbledore beamed. "Severus, I will call for you after I've talked to Mr. Potter."

When the door shut behind Dumbledore and Potter, everyone experienced a chill when Snape glanced deliberately at each of them.

"Leave," the Professor whispered in a dangerous tone and everyone scrambled to retrieve their things and leave as quietly as possible. Weasley practically sprinted out the door when Snape gave him a murderous look, a panicked Granger in tow. As always, Snape preferred to leave Potter with all the blame and punishment.

The Slytherins returned to their common room, jeering slightly at the downtrodden Gryffindors who went on their way.

Pansy collapsed on an armchair in helpless giggles. "That had been excellent! Did you see Snape's face? I thought he was going to have a conniption."

As the rest of the sixth years fell into a discussion about their Head of House's expression, Draco was grateful that Pansy had forgotten about her earlier line of questioning. Truthfully, Draco wasn't thinking of that but of the strange conundrum; why had Potter been uninjured when the full blast of the explosion should have fallen on him? Weasley must have dropped to the floor to escape being burned alive but even if Potter had done the same thing then some part of him should have been affected, such as his hair or robes.

Just as Potter had finally become so ordinary for Draco, something like this happened to prove otherwise.

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TBC

A/N: Is this a twist? Oh my, Draco has lost interest in our hero but luckily, Harry always knows how to reel them back in. =P Also, I wibble a little bit because it's always despairing for an author to see that people had enough time to put her story in the alert section but left no review, which is really the thing that helps us out. I might be horrible to have said that but it really is kind of depressing. So please do leave a little review, yeah, because I actually like this story and I'd like to read about others liking it as much.