Order From Chaos || Drarry

F O U R

"Don't you ever get lonely?"

Harry instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as Malfoy's face shut off, all mirth disappearing from his eyes, his mouth hardening. Why the hell would he say something like that?

It had now been a few weeks since the incident, and Harry and Malfoy could almost say there were friends. Almost. The only thing that was holding Harry back was the fact that he had suddenly and rather shockingly begun to see Malfoy as attractive. It was true. He was tall and slim, probably too slim, but that was something to worry about at another time. His skin was a startling white, beautifully smooth and incredibly susceptible blushes, as Harry had discovered. His eyes were a striking grey that shone in his sharp face, his white hair a halo that suited the rest of his pallor. He often wore black robes, despite the dress code, which contrasted his pale looks and contributed to the whole monochrome look about him.

And it seemed that Malfoy had begun to trust him slightly, opening up more and more and becoming rather pleasant to converse with. He didn't speak much about personal life, though Harry knew better than to ask.

Or at least he had thought he did.

He felt his face drain of colour, one hand rising jerkily and waving at Malfoy as if that would take back what he said. "Uh- I mean, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry-"

But to his surprise, Malfoy's face just cleared completely into an expression of tiredness as he rested his head back and closed his eyes. "Potter, stop." He didn't elaborate further.

"Sorry-"

"Oh my God, stop!" Malfoy's voice had risen in the mere space of seconds and some semblance of colour had flushed his cheeks. Harry fell silent. He was shocked by both the muggle profanity and the sudden emotion in Malfoy's voice, which was sorely missing these days. "I know what you meant, Potter. I don't care. Just don't get all Hufflepuff-y on me, I hate that."

Harry didn't know whether to press further or to wallow in his guilt, but it seemed Malfoy had decided to answer his question after all. "Sometimes. Yeah, sometimes it gets lonely."

His voice was so casual, but what he was saying was so awful that Harry couldn't reconcile this Malfoy with the one he'd known at Hogwarts, or even the one he'd found trembling under Harry's desk. This wasn't right. According to routine, Malfoy wasn't meant to be so... empty.

Then Malfoy laughed, a bitter, humourless sound that stirred all the pity in Harry's heart.

"Who am I kidding? It's lonely all the time. Literally no one cares about me, which means no one visits me, which means my tiny flat gets quite lonely. Especially at Christmas. I haven't had a present in four years. People are supposed to see each other, eat nice food together and give each other stuff that no one really cares about but it matters all the same because it's proof that someone cares. I just want someone to care. About me. Not the Mark on my arm."

And damn, if that wasn't the saddest thing Harry had ever heard.

It took him a moment to realise that Malfoy's eyes had filled with tears, though only one escaped. Harry had to fight the unbelievable urge to join him in his crying, and settled on remaining still from where he sat at his own desk, watching Malfoy.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me this." he said quietly. He didn't like seeing Malfoy cry. He'd seen too many people crying in his life. Ginny cried loudly and Hermione cried with deep, shuddering breaths and Ron cried with gruff sobs that he always tried to stop. But Malfoy did none of these things (except if he was having a panic attack). He just sat still and quiet, tears silently trickling down his cheeks.

And, in some ways, that was worse. He couldn't even cry passionately anymore.

"No. You helped me before, so I owe you an answer. Besides, if I don't talk to someone, I'll probably go mad. At school, I had friends. Lots of friends I hardly knew and a few friends who meant the world to me. They're dead now, or in Azkaban. But, although they loved me, they never understood. They never understood my aversion to chaos and the panic it would make me feel. They always looked at me weirdly, and it was always the thing we didn't talk about. At the time, I hated it and I wished they would understand me, but now... I'd give anything to have them back."

Harry knew the feeling, as these words sparked images of Sirius and Fred and Dobby and Remus and Tonks and his parents, and everyone else he lost. But then he thought of Hermione and the Weasleys and Neville and Luna and everyone he had now, and he couldn't imagine being without them or being without anyone. For the first time ever, Harry Potter realised all that he did have when met by someone who had none of that.

Malfoy's colleagues hated him, society spat on him, he had no friends and no one to share Christmas with, and the whole world was telling him just to give up, but he still found the strength to get up in the morning and come to work and try to prove that he was more than what everyone thought he was.

Perhaps Malfoy should have been in Gryffindor.

Harry didn't say he was sorry, because words like that were meaningless. Instead, he stood and slowly walked over to the other desk, where he laid a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

Malfoy smiled faintly, his body leaning into Harry's touch.

And from then on, Harry vowed to show Malfoy he was cared about.