The Opposite of Love

Chapter 5- A New Year, An Old Fight

New Year's day had arrived at the manor, but nothing was different. The mansion, though thoroughly insulated, was colder than any ice at the most northern point on earth. An eerie silence had crept into the place, making itself known when any creature inside would try and talk. It grasped their voices with its chilling hand and halted any kind of sound. Used to silence, no matter how cold or sustained, Draco found himself almost normal again inside his home. It was no different than when his father was home, lurking around the castle and squashing in his presence any sort of humanity. Draco spent the cold nights before the New Year in front of the flame of a fireplace, reading any book that peaked his interest. He was delighted that Potter had finally learned to leave him alone, and whenever they happened to pass each other, a rare occurrence, they both looked the other way and passed wordlessly. Silence was music to Draco's ears, and he couldn't be any more pleased at this recent stroke of luck.

Harry, meanwhile, had grown restless inside the manor. The past few days had been nerve-wracking and boredom ruled his actions. Emotions left him apathetic, and even his hatred for Malfoy had died down. Hate took too much energy, which Harry lacked, and Harry lacked the energy it would take to hate Malfoy appropriately. He grew slightly jealous at Malfoy's peacefulness, always wondering why Malfoy didn't look nearly as bored as he did. In fact, Malfoy appeared strangely calm and serene, and failed to make any sort of comment towards Harry the entire time. It grew to the point that Harry would have given anything for Malfoy to make fun of him; his boredom was that severe. Harry spent his nights days pacing his room, eating in the kitchens, or sleeping wherever he happened to be when he grew sleepy. Life grew dull and meaningless, but Harry never tried to ask Malfoy if he could talk to his friends. His life at Hogwarts seemed ages ago, and Harry felt, after just a little more than a week, that he was never to return to his old life again. Harry was stuck in a cold, silent world ruled by a tyrant that couldn't be bothered with human needs. Just when Harry felt as if his boredom would consume him for good, a sudden burst of energy propelled him to break the invisible chains shackled around his arms and legs.

It happened the night that Misma was due to arrive for their second meeting and dinner. was due to arrive for her second meeting and dinner with Malfoy. Harry had spent the day watching the house elves busily prepare for the extravagant dinner that was to occur that night. Harry retreated back into his room just as trumpets blared outside the castle and a regal blue coach with white wings protruding from its sides glided magnificently to the ground in front of the drawbridge. From his view from stories above Harry could only see a tiny dot of a person come from the coach. Harry soon turned away, resigning himself to yet another night of boredom. The minutes dragged on as Harry laid on his bed, watching as the grandfather clock in the corner ticked away an hour and then two. Harry switched positions like an egg beater, tossing and turning to find a comfortable resting place. None worked. Harry sighed deep in his throat, laying his head on his arm. He stared lazily down at his arm hairs, snuffling the hairs so that they tickled his nose pleasantly. He watched through bleary eyes as Draco yawned and stretched his furry mouth, turning over on his back to face the ceiling next to his master. Harry couldn't remember ever being this bored at the Dursley's. He had spent much more time than this locked in that dreadful cupboard than he was spending in this spacious room, so why did he feel so light-headed and restless? Maybe it was because of the constant action he had thrust at him since the beginning of his schooling at Hogwarts. Despite his waned sense of excitement in smaller things, Harry still knew how to entertain himself extremely well. Now was one of those times to bring out the big guns. Harry decided to leave the tower and roam around the castle.

Harry cracked open the heavy door, staring down the vast emptiness of the hallway. A draft blew his way, causing him to shudder slightly. Magical floating torches burned softly down the corridor and Harry felt an instant familiarity with his surroundings. Just before he stepped outside his door, Harry whipped back into his room, digging through the bottom of a drawer and coming up with his invisibility cloak. It had just appeared one night, and Harry had a nagging feeling that Dumbledore had something to do with it. Yet, like all of Dumbledore's doings, it was a complete mystery to Harry why he did it.

Throwing the cloak securely over his shoulders, Harry left the room with a soft swooshing of his cloak. As he pulled the door shut, it did not close properly, so that it was left was cracked open ever so slightly. Having grown accustomed to wandering the halls at day or night, Harry skirted around pieces of decorative furniture, delicate vases, and looming statues to find himself in the drawing room. Positively giddy with mirth, Harry's footsteps quickened and grew lighter as he searched the room for the secret trapdoor that Malfoy had mentioned long ago, when he and Ron had used a Polyjuice Potion to change into Crabbe and Goyle; the secret hiding place of the Malfoy's dark arts assets. Scratching his head a few minutes later, Harry felt he should have known that the trapdoor would not be prominent in the room. On his hands and knees now, Harry searched in vain for any kind of differentiating crack or handle that could be the entrance to the underground stash. As he turned on all fours, a glimpse of a skittering ball of fur caught the corner of his eye. In horror, Harry realized that Draco the ferret had pushed his way out of the bedroom door and had decided to take his own stroll around the castle. Draco had entered the drawing room, sniffing at stacks of papers in a curious manner. Harry tried to grab Draco from his position on the floor, but Draco skirted around Harry's grip and ran from the room completely. Harry crawled on all fours to the door, peering around the edges of the doorframe. Harry only stared for a few seconds before realizing that Draco was headed toward the dining hall. Gasping in panic, Harry leapt to his feet, and, being as quiet as he possibly could, chased after Draco. Draco proved to be very hard to catch, zigzagging his way around tables and rugs, all the while leading Harry helplessly across the expanse of the entrance hallway.

All of his efforts were suddenly in vain for Harry distinctly heard the sound of a womanly voice and the nauseating sound of Malfoy being 'charming'. Crawling stealthily across the floor and hearing murmurs of the conversation inside made Harry feel like a wildlife explorer set out to document the fleeing and mating habits of two ferrets. Harry kicked aside all thoughts as Draco dashed in front of his face and straight toward the grand double doors. Making one final blind leap, Harry managed to capture Draco in his outstretched hands. Grinning ear to ear in triumph, Harry petted Draco and cooed softly, more happy about his victory than angry at the actions of his pet. Greatly relieved, Harry decided to set off to the safety of his room, wary of making any more of a disturbance.

Just as Harry turned on his heel to leave, a glitch in his escape plan made itself known. A huge statue that had once sat solidly in the hall had suddenly been able to move and was heading toward him quickly. With a strangled shout of fear, Harry fell backwards onto the doors and, as if they no longer existed, let him fall through to the dining room.

Draco and Misma jumped to their feet at the unexpected explosion, their wine glasses shattering on the floor. Draco gripped a serving fork in his hand, protecting himself in what little ways he could. Misma clutched at her heart with a gloved hand, regaining her composure much sooner than the fork-clad Malfoy. Realizing it was Harry that interrupted their dinner, the fork clattered to the floor and Draco stared longingly at a sharp steak knife perched dangerously close to his itchy hand. They both glared at each other, a silent but furious battle to see who would look away first. Meanwhile, though outwardly startled, Misma became dignified and poised, looking none the worse for wear.

Both Harry and Draco abandoned their war, looking toward Misma; Harry with a look of sincere embarrassment from his place on the floor and Draco with a look of apparent distaste. She smiled out of the corner of her ruby lips, illustrating both temptation and sympathy at the same time, as if quailing both Harry's and Draco's curiosity. Her hypnotizing blue eyes moved over both of them, and finally words materialized out of her strong and endearing mouth.

"Well, this is quite a riveting moment!" With a graceful sweep of her shapely black dress with blacker sequins adorning the enchanting flow of material, she crossed the wide room to where Harry was hastily picking himself up, brushing off the sleeves of his dark blue sweater and then the legs of the faded pants he wore. Her demeanor expressed an unwavering aristocracy, and everything from her carefully placed black hair to her perfectly shaped fingernails exuded a lavish amount of regality and affluence. Despite Harry's humble appearance and lack of preparation for such an astonishingly beautiful well-wisher, Misma curtseyed fluently, offering an elegant hand to Harry. Without knowledge of proper customs of the wealthy, Harry opted to use his vague sense of etiquette and placed a kiss on her outstretched hand. Misma soon stood straight, her carved hairstyle staying in place behind a golden hair adornment. Misma gave Harry a charming grin, looking back toward Draco.

"Draco, you never told me that Harry Potter was here. How very crass of you to hide the one who saved us all from my sight. However, I shall look past the insult of this and focus on how very courteous it is for you to share Malfoy manor with such a figure in our recent history. The rumors are true then, are they not?"

"Rumors?" Harry asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"The rumors that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was set on destroying you soon. I never would have guessed in all my life that you would be here at Malfoy manor, of all places. So, tell me, Harry, what influenced you to choose Malfoy manor?" Draco's face became flushed at this and Harry secretly wanted to jump up and down in triumph.

"Well, I really didn't choose to be here..."

"Really now? I can't imagine a more safer place for someone of your magnitude! After all, you are the Harry Potter! What better company could you possibly be in than a Malfoy's?" Draco smirked from behind her, clearly pleased at her choice of words. Far from feeling pleased at her smart remarks and condescending manner towards Malfoy, Harry went into a feeling of distaste as she set Malfoy up for honor. Harry secretly thought that the company of Voldemort was preferred over the 'magnanimous Malfoy'. At least Voldemort would 'entertain' him.

"Yes, what better indeed?" Draco asked pointedly, sweeping across the room to stand behind Misma. Harry was strongly reminded of a vulture descending upon a dead elephant carcass. Misma smiled and went closer to Harry. Harry's defenses immediately went up, and he felt himself backing away from Misma's strong presence. Misma reached out and gripped Harry's chin, angling it in a way so that she could see it without fault. Harry nervously stood still, letting Misma stare into his face. Her eyes never once lifted to look at his scar.

"Well, I must be getting back to the mansion, father is waiting for me. It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry. I trust we will see each other again?" Harry nodded slightly, breathing a small sigh of relief as her hand fell back to her side. Misma turned and regarded Malfoy with a gentle nod of her head. She then walked from the room and the only departing sounds heard were her shoes clicking and her dress sweeping with each step. The dining room door shut with a resolute sound, leaving Harry and Malfoy in their silent battle. After a couple of minutes, Malfoy sliced the thick silence with his voice.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Malfoy hissed, his eyes lowering in an evil expression that could destroy poison. Harry, taken off guard by the strangeness of the question-and Malfoy's lack of striking vocabulary-could only blink numbly at the question. Angered by Harry's lack of an answer, Malfoy advanced upon him, getting as close as comfort would allow. Fueled by Malfoy's closeness, Harry pushed himself to full height and met Malfoy's death glare and matched it pupil to pupil. Harry tried to formulate an answer, but soon realized that the depth of the question was not the means for a fight; fights only consisted of short, precise questions, answers, and an abundance of swear words. Not wanting to deprive himself from a proper fight, Harry kept the conversation short and the anger abundant.

"I should ask you the same." Harry watched in interest and Malfoy struggled over his own proposed question that required such an in-depth question. Malfoy also choose the easy way out.

"Something you are not."

"What, evil? Vain? Foul? Should I continue?"

"Try not to; you might get a headache."

"Better to get a headache from insults than tell praises and get a pain in the ass."

"A Gryffindor mind is about as weak as extinguished dragon breath. Add a broken wing to that dragon and you have Harry Potter."

"A Slytherin mind is less complicated, like a pile of dragon droppings. Well, you know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree." Malfoy shook with anger, his face growing an unheard of shade of red.

"It's a good thing you don't have parents Potter; they would have been ashamed to have you as a son."

"At least my parents were worthy of life." Draco flinched, and Harry leaned forward a bit, wanting to delve into the subject but knowing that now was not the time for tranquil conversation.

"Don't speak of things you don't know, Potter."

"I only speak the same way you speak to me. You don't know my parents."

"Neither do you."

"I know, and it's all because of your father's employer." Harry noticed that Malfoy lowered his eyes slightly on that one, almost in an ashamed sort of way.

"Though I try to deny it, I'm still my father's son," Malfoy said quietly, stepping closer to Harry and staring at him even harder, "Tread carefully." Harry became even angrier at this statement, even angrier than when Malfoy had badmouthed his friends or undermined his pride. His thoughts constricted into one want, one need. He had to leave Malfoy manor, no matter what it took.

"No human being would admit to being your father's son. I cannot stay in the presence of a Death Eater's son, especially when it's you, Malfoy. I'd rather lick Voldemort's grimy feet than stay here and look at your mousy face for one more second. I'm leaving, somehow," Harry stated, his anger lessening by the words he spat. Now feeling in a more carefree mood Harry said his last few words to Malfoy, determined to get the last insult in. "By the way, your hair puzzles me," Harry started to walk by Malfoy to leave but stopped right beside him and leaned close to his ear. "Were you born with hair like that or do you actually think you look good in that hairstyle?" Harry smirked as Draco boiled underneath his gaze. Harry flicked Draco's stiffened hair, laughing as a hardened piece fell in front of one eye. Harry left quickly after that, not wanting to see Malfoy's reaction that badly. Harry stopped laughing halfway to his room, realizing that he had to escape now. Nothing was going to stop him, no matter what it took. He had already stated that he was going to do it, and Harry never went back on his word. A tight feeling of fear crept into him upon remembrance of the magical sky stretched before him and the words from Malfoy that below the illusion was a mountain face. Harry made it up to his room to get a few items from his friends and his pet Draco. Harry, on blind luck, managed to find a pack to put Draco into so he wouldn't get hurt. With his things packed and ready to go, Harry simply walked out of wooden doors that led into Malfoy manor.

Frothing from Potter's sheer lack of respect and utter contempt of his image, Draco was at first glad to be rid of Potter. After all, if he left to get himself slain by Voldemort, then it was none of his business. He was tired of babysitting Potter and sick of being scared of a headmaster in a school that he no longer attended. He was on his own now, and Draco told himself that he couldn't be more happier. Draco had managed to calm himself down a tad before he heard the great wooden doors shut in the entrance hall. With his damaged hair forgotten and an evil glint in his eyes sparkling, Draco decided that he would not let Potter leave without a fight. Draco threw open the kitchen doors, heading for the only way out of the manor there was; to fly out.

Harry fought his way through a mound of snow, nearly toppling over into an icy pit twice. Harry had rounded the castle and was now in the so-called backyard that now seemed ten times the size of any forest on earth. Harry finally made it to the wall where he had stood viewing the delightful spectacle and knew that he couldn't just jump over. Feeling a deep and tragic lost, Harry slumped against a tree, realizing that there was no obvious way of getting out of here. Just as he started wondering if there really was a mountain on the other side of the wall-and if dieing was really as bad as they say it is-Malfoy's voice cut through the quiet air and Harry saw him standing next to a covered broom shed that he had overlooked before, holding two Silverstreak XP brooms in his gloved hands and smirking for the entire world to see. Harry raised an eyebrow, instinctively sensing an unspoken challenge rise into the air. Harry hands itched at his sides, and the prospect of flying was enough to make him abandon his ideas of hurtling himself across a wall with no palpable end. From across the expanse of yard Draco stood with the two high-class brooms, feeling like a stranger offering candy to a sugar-deprived child. Even from this distance, Draco could see Harry's eyes gleam with a glazed _expression, one of intense competition and pride. Draco knew he had sparked a fire in Harry and relished in the idea that he had him in the palm of his hand.

"Care for a game of Quidditch, Potter?" Draco drawled, moving closer with long, practiced steps of a man who was seemingly offering a great prize. Harry's head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. After all, it wasn't every day that Malfoy wanted to play a happy little game of Quidditch. No more often than Snape wanted to give Harry a hug, anyway. Crossing his arms slowly, Harry glared at Malfoy, not letting his gaze drift for one moment away from him. Harry stood silent, waiting for Malfoy to speak first. Malfoy drew himself in his competitive stance, a posture he always seemed to be in around Harry. As if to seal his words, Malfoy set his foot on top of a box of Quidditch balls. Harry walked closer, a good stone's throw away from where Malfoy stood, waiting impatiently for Malfoy to speak

"If you win, you can take the broom and fly wherever the bloody hell you and your rat are wanted. But if I win, you cannot leave until I say you can. In essence, you'll be my prisoner. Up for the challenge, or do you just want to go ahead and toddle off to your room?"

"Why not just hand me the broom and save yourself the embarrassment?" Draco angrily threw one of the broomsticks at Harry, and Harry caught it in unheard of speed. Draco scowled, pulling out his wand and shaking it slightly in preparation. With a wave of the wand, a large portion of the yard became a quidditch pitch complete with two quidditch goal posts. Harry stared in actual wonderment, wishing he had that sort of spell when at the Dursley's. He devilishly thought of Dudley trying to fly on a broomstick and only managing to hover a few feet above the ground, the broomstick wobbling from the weight. Draco looked at Harry, wondering why he was smiling all of a sudden. Taking the smile as smugness, Draco angrily kicked away the lock on the Quidditch ball box and sent the balls flying. A bludger headed straight for Harry's head and would have knocked him out if he had not moved at the last possible second. The smile vanished instantly and Harry mounted his broom, kicking off from the ground. Harry gasped in astonishment at the speed and smooth flight of the broom, trying a couple of loops in midair. While Harry experimented with the broom, Draco took his chance and snatched the red quaffle, hurtling toward his goal. He tossed the ball in, earning himself ten points. Harry caught on to what Malfoy was doing and immediately intercepted the quaffle. Harry had never even tried to be a chaser, but as soon as he made his first goal he decided that it was much simpler than searching for the snitch.

Draco soon realized that he was losing inexorably to Potter and wanted nothing more than to end the game. Draco soon sat very still on his broom, gazing around for the golden snitch. After making a fifth goal, Harry soon realized that Malfoy had changed gears and was searching for the snitch. Dodging a bludger, Harry maneuvered his broom to and fro, determined to find the snitch. He spotted it a few yards in front of him, swishing in the still air. Instead of instantly following it, Harry decided it was better to trick Malfoy. Harry sped off opposite the direction of the snitch and delved into a deep dive. Draco had soon caught up with Harry and was zooming at breakneck speed to intercept the presumed snitch. Harry then pointed his broom upwards and began shooting straight up into the sky. Harry felt euphoric, almost in another world as he seemed to leave the broomstick behind and was simply stretching out his arms and soaring for the heavens. Harry soon began to twirl as he ascended, showing off a little to his one man audience. Malfoy tried to keep up with Harry's flight, but soon fell back as Harry broke from his ascension and with lightening speed seemed to tear the sky in two as he jetted past Draco, an exhilarated smile from Harry's face burning into Draco's memory. Draco stared blankly after Harry, having trouble breathing for a moment after the spectacle of flight he just witnessed. He soon came to his senses, dismissing his temporary lack of breath as a bout of light headedness from the thin air around him. He soon grasped the idea that he had been hoodwinked and immediately planned to retaliate.

Swerving between two bludgers, Harry effortlessly drew closer and closer to the snitch, relishing in the excitement and intensity he felt at these crucial moments. Just as he stretching out a hand to grasp the golden snitch in his hand, trouble struck. Harry's broom was bashed from behind, sending him lurching forward. Harry glared over his back to see Malfoy smiling in a triumphant manner. Harry growled low in his throat, preparing to retaliate. He sharply turned and butted his broom against Malfoy's. Soon a battle of bashing occurred, with each boy trying with everything they had to knock the other boy off. The battle only stopped when the snitch practically flew in front of Draco's face. They both stopped and stared around for the snitch, abandoning their own fight. Soon, with one last disgusted look shared between them, Harry searched high as Draco searched low. Draco scanned the lower area he had hastily, determined to catch the snitch first. It wasn't until a yell pierced the air that Draco stopped looking. A bludger had hit Harry hard in the head, sending him sprawling on the broom. Draco gasped involuntarily, wondering if Harry could get his balance on time. Before Harry could, however, the second bludger smacked him in the ribs, knocking him completely off the broom and hurtling toward the ground from a height of at least four stories. Draco reacted quickly, steering his broom underneath Harry's falling body. Just as Draco thought it was over, Harry fell clumsily into Draco's arms, forcing him to fall back also. Draco lay panting on the ground as Harry lay still on his body. They laid like that for a while, neither of them speaking. Harry soon came to, realizing what had happened quickly.

"Malfoy, your stupid ass shouldn't have let bludgers out without beaters." Disgusted by the sheer lack of gratefulness, Draco pushed Harry off of him. They both lay there, breathing heavily.

*****

Back inside the castle a few minutes later, Draco was frothing with anger. Draco pulled Harry by his robes, who tripped and fell, barely able to walk properly at the harsh pulls. They walked until they reached the library, at which Draco yanked open the solid oak doors and threw Harry inside.

"Next time I'll let you fall to your death, you ungrateful bastard!" Malfoy slammed the doors. Harry angrily kicked a chair, sending it flying across the room. He ran to the door, only to find it locked. Harry pounded on it, but realized that without his wand he was powerless. He soon sat down in a chair, defeated. Malfoy soon returned, opening the locks on the door.

"And take your rat with you!" And with that Draco was thrown into the room also. Harry quickly intercepted his pet, cooing soft words to it and cursing Malfoy's name. Harry sighed, giving up and sitting in a chair. How was he to get out of this situation?

Will Harry be able to escape the library?

Why did Draco really lose his breath?

What is up with the ferret and does Harry have a 'ferret fetish'?