Wednesday At Ten

Chapter 13~Just a boy

Draco was avoiding him. He couldn't lie to himself about it anymore, he had been blatantly avoiding Harry Potter for over a week. He didn't even let Harry in his room when Wednesday inevitably came, and he was left with an infuriating feeling of emptiness when he heard solemn footsteps fade away from his door.

Whenever the Slytherin saw even a glimpse of messy dark hair in the corridor, he would turn the corner. If in the same lesson together that day, he'd sit across the classroom with his head down. If he felt green eyes on him from across the great hall, he would skip breakfast.

He was confused, everything had gone so bloody fast. For seven years they absolutely despised each other; they had to get separated from wand fights in the corridors, he'd laugh about him behind his back, Draco would belittle and torture him with cruel words. He undeniably bullied Harry since first year.

And now, they were revealing dark secrets, enjoy each other's presence, and most importantly, snogging on his sofa.

It just didn't make sense, a death eater and the saviour. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

It was probably just some massive joke anyway, Potter probably slipped some Amortentia into his pumpkin juice for a good laugh with the Weasel and the Mudblood.

Draco hadn't realised how much his health had decreased over the last week. He was skipping practically every meal and he had shut out Blaise and Pansy completely, much to their distress. As the days passed, depression's firm grip on the blonde's throat only got tighter, cutting off his oxygen enough for his legs to wobble beneath him and his head to constantly feel fuzzy.

Every time he saw Harry's face it just made him sad. Sad because he knew he wouldn't be able to see it every day. Sad because he would eventually realise that Draco was nowhere near good enough for him. Sad because as soon as his father found out he was gay he would surely be killed. Sad because it just couldn't happen.

Ever since the Boggart incident, Draco had been the talk of the school once again since his 'attempt' in the bathroom. He remembered the looks he got when he first walked into the hall later that day of the boggart incident; people whispering behind their hands and pulling weird expressions.

The looks he got differed. Some were actually sympathetic, they didn't look at him like 'Malfoy the rich-pureblood-bully' anymore, but 'Draco the sad-abused-boy', he still wasn't sure which label he preferred. Others, mostly Slytherins, stared at him like some abnormal being — he had boasted about his father for so many years, and to think, behind all of that, Lucius had been physically and mentally abusing him — the students were probably more abhorred at themselves for not noticing the truth sooner, but alas, their superior Slytherin self-preservation dominated all selfless thoughts and resulted in giving Draco many disgusted glares.

It was a grey Thursday when Draco started reverting back to his old ways. He would walk around with Pansy and Blaise at his shoulders, throwing the occasional insult at younger students. Although, only Harry seemed to notice that his insults no longer were laced with malice, they seemed forced and lazy, like he was too tired to be bitter anymore.

Pansy and Blaise's hearts were no longer in the confrontation anymore, they were way to mature for the old daily name-calling now. However, it seemed to be the only way that Draco would let them in, at least a little bit, so — just like first year — they were back at their 'leader's' shoulders, throwing insults and hexes at the younger kids that passed.

All Draco wanted to do was lock himself in his room and cry. He knew deep down Harry hadn't done anything wrong, but he couldn't help feeling anger towards the Gryffindor.