Who Is Draco Malfoy?

"You made up with - with Malfoy?" Ron sputtered with disbelief and anger. "Why Harry? After all these years?" His eyes had been restored to normal after drinking a potion whipped up for him by Madame Pomfrey, but his pupils were horribly dilated as he stared at his friend.

"You don't understand, Ron." Harry was pacing the floor in front of where Ron sat in the Gryffindor common room. "When I spoke with Draco..."

"Malfoy."

"Draco, Ron. His name is Draco. Anyway, when we spoke, he acted like a completely different person. I thought at first that he wasn't being himself, but as we talked more, it seemed like maybe....." Harry trailed off, and Ron made a rather impolite gesture to urge him on. "It seemed like maybe he used to be who he's not."

"I still don't believe he apologized to you, Harry. I don't see how he could. Not Draco." Harry was getting rather exasperated with Ron.

"Why doesn't he understand?", he thought. His temper rose and his eyes narrowed at the red headed person before him.

"He cried Ron." The words were quiet, but the silence that followed them gave them a kind of sinister echo in their ears.

"What are you talking about?" Ron said after a spell. "You must be..."

"He broke down and cried, Ron! Do I have to bloody spell it out for you? Not everything is always what you think it is!" He caught his breath in great gasps and a rather hurt expression came over Ron. He continued, but with caution. "Ron, these years should have taught you that you're not always right, nor anyone else for that matter." Harry went to the portrait hole and climbed out, leaving Ron to his own devices. He made his way to the library and silently scolded himself for not telling Ron what he had just discovered. He scolded himself for not telling Ron what he overheard as he left Draco with Madame Pomfrey, what he knew about Draco's condition. "I'll tell him later, maybe," he thought. "If I -"

"-Remember to take these pills everyday, Mr. Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey gave Draco a little smile and handed him a small bottle. With a more serious tone, she added, "You could seriously injure yourself, or someone else in fact, if you neglect them."

Draco nodded and added meekly, "It always happens in the morning, now. When Gregory wakes me up. I'm always someone else. Several others, actually. This morning I was acting like mother. I can't control it." He looked up at Madam Pomfrey, and was surprised to find that at that moment, she had tears coming from her eyes. Several slipped down his own cheeks as he took the glass of water she offered him and downed one of the large, black pills. "Madam Pomfrey," he began. "Why did this happen to me?"

A mixture of pity and scorn filled Poppy Pomfrey's body as she looked at the pitiful boy before her. "Your Death-Eater-of-a-father's hatred. The way he forced you to hate like him. The way he made you do what you didn't want to do, say what you didn't want to say, and be what you didn't want to be...the son-of-a-bitch," she thought to herself. "Sometimes these things just happen, Mr. Malfoy." She placed the reassuring smile upon her lips again and only when Draco had wiped his tears and returned the expression did she insist that he return to his room and prepare for the day's classes. As she watched him making his way through the door and down the hallway, all she could do was shake her head and allow the flood she had tried to repress run freely from her sad eyes. She whispered to herself, "God damn you, Lucius Malfoy."

"God damn you, Madam Pomfrey!" Out in the hallway, Draco gagged and spit the black pill back into his hand. "Bloody awful pill." He threw it into the trash bin he passed on his way back to the dungeons. "I don't know why they make me take them. I'd never do anything to actually hurt anybody." He felt his temper rising as he worked himself up for no reason at all. "They think I can't keep control! We'll it's my mind! They think I can't handle it! They think I can't control my own frigging mind!" He kicked a large statue that stood by the door to the girl's washroom and sent it tumbling, scattering a small group of first year Hufflepuffs. The sound of their screams lifted Draco's spirits a little and he allowed the left side of his mouth to raise into the Genuine-Malfoy-Smirk. His temper cooled, but his attitude did not. With the old swagger in his step, he headed back to the dormitories.

"Hermione, can I talk to you?" Ron was walking through the book shelves in the library, coming towards her. After her stressful morning, with both Lavender and Colin causing trouble, she had felt like paying a visit to the one place where she could loose herself.

"Of coarse, Ron! Come sit by me." She moved her books from the chair by her side. She could tell by the expression on Ron's face that he had something important to discuss, so, after he had seated himself and gotten comfortable, she looked at him expectantly and waited in silence.

"I- uh- well..I want to talk about...Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Hermione's ears began to turn pink.

"Yea..He- uh...well, Harry thinks he has, like, a crush on you."

"Harry thinks Malfoy has a - has a crush on me?" The blush spread from her ears all over her face and neck, a blush that could rival a Weasley. Of coarse, the Weasley present noticed this. He recognized this blush. This was the type of blush that spreads over the cheeks of young lovers when they learn of another's love for the first time. This was the type of blush that revealed secrets. Ron's eyes narrowed icily.

"That's what I said." Hermione shrank back from the silent cruelty in his voice.

"What's the matter with you?"

"You like Malfoy, don't you?" Her blush deepened, but unlike before, she felt unembarrassed.

"Well, yes, actually, I do! I might as well tell you. You would have found out sooner or later, since both Lavender and Parvati know. I like Draco. In fact I'm crazy about him. OK?" She felt her temper rising, "Do I need your approval or something? " Ron stood up quickly, knocking his chair over and drawing a calculating glance from Madam Pince.

"No, you don't need my approval. I don't give a damn what you do." He walked briskly from the library, with Hermione staring after him, her mouth hanging open.

She said to herself, "Who does he think he is?"

"What did you say, Parvati?" Lavender looked at her friend as they walked down the hall together.

" I just said 'who does Malfoy think he is?'" They were heading towards the Great Hall, hoping to get to breakfast early, when they saw Draco kick a tall statue over onto some little kids. "Sometimes he acts as though he dosen't want anyone to know he's there, and sometimes he struts around like owns the whole damn place."

"I know what you mean," Lavender said. "He is definitely unworthy of Hermione."

"The trouble with Hermie is that she doesn't know what's good for her. She doesn't know what she wants. All these 7 years she's been the ultimate overachiever. She's been prefect, and she's headgirl. I know plenty of us would be pleased with all this," Parvati stopped and looked at Lavender again, "but Hermione's not. She thinks she wants Draco now. She thought she wanted Ron last year. Back at the beginning all she could talk about was Seamus. And then there was that bit with Viktor. All those times, Hermione fell too hard, too fast. She honestly thought they were all 'the one'. Now that we're adults I'm a little frightened for her. What if Draco likes her back? She might end up marrying the ferret! The rest of her life could be spent being treated like Malfoy's house elf." They had reached a staircase and were descending slowly, talking quietly.

"There's nothing we can do though. Nothing I can think of. She's her own person. I suppose we could set her up for some blind dates with nice blokes-"

"No, no, Lavender! Hermione is too smart to go on a blind date. Besides, she is never looking. That's the problem. Her little 'crushes' come upon her so suddenly....I don't know. I just don't want her to get hurt, and if she dates - Draco.."

" - , Draco, Draco, you are one sexy cat!" He was looking at himself in the mirror in his dormitory room, playing with his hair. He smiled to himself. "It is so uncanny how you can mess up your hair again and again and yet it still looks so bloody hot."

"Uh...Draco?" Goyle shuffled into the room. "Right. I thought I heard you in here. Are...are you OK?" He was nervous, and it showed in his voice. Draco didn't glance away from the mirror and answered in a bored tone.

"Why shouldn't I be OK?" Goyle looked at him carefully, because it seemed to him that Draco was acting like he didn't even remember.

"You-uh- you do remember, don't you Draco?" Draco sniggered.

"Yes, Goyle I remembered to label the doors 'in' and 'out' and to label your wand 'this end up'." He rolled his eyes at his joke and muttered under his breath, "Bloody incompetent git." Goyle's mouth dropped open in shock.

"You-you really don't know, do you?" His eyes grew concerned. "Draco, did you take your medicine this morning?" Draco turned to face him.

"No. Why would I take medicine? I'm perfectly healthy. There has never been anything wrong with a Malfoy. Malfoys have never gotten viruses or diseases of any sort whatsoever. How dare you suggest it?" Goyle moved toward him.

"Draco, you know you're sick. Madame Pomfrey knows you're sick. I know you're sick, so come with me. We're going to go get you that pill." He reached for Draco's hand. Draco pulled back and snarled at Goyle like some rabid animal.

"Don't you dare touch me, you queer. I know all about you and that Crabbe. You don't belong in Slytherin. No Slytherin was ever a bloody pansy...except maybe Pansy." An evil grin cracked his features and a howling laugh broke through his clenched teeth. He fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. Goyle trembled where he stood. The insults had hit their mark. Goyle knew it was true. He knew what he was and what he wasn't supposed to be. Goyle knew that Slytherin males had the reputations as lady killers. These thoughts swam in his mind like so many fish and blocked out the sound of Draco's insane laughter, and he didn't hear when Draco calmed down. He didn't notice when Draco stood up and looked him over like a bird in a cage. A bird that had just bitten his finger, drawing warm blood. Goyle looked up and saw this in Draco's eyes. Hatred beyond imagination.

"I've got to go now." Draco said finally, ignoring the seriousness of the matter and Goyle's fresh tears. "It's nearly breakfast time and I'm eating with some straight friends today. You needn't come. Go eat with the Gryffindors. They're more your type." He walked past Goyle and out the door.

Ron was walking quickly down towards the dungeon. He had one goal in mind, and one goal only : to settle this bloody triangle once and for all. He was searching for-

"OOf!" Ron bumped into someone as he turned a corner. They both fell to the floor, and as they stood Ron noticed with a lump in his throat that he had just collided with the one person he wanted to see.

"Do you think you could possibly watch where you're going, Weasley? Or are you blind, and glasses are just another item on the list of things your parents can't afford to buy you?" Ron felt the anger rising in his chest, but he forced it down into his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do right now was start a fist fight with Malfoy.

"Sorry." He mumbled, his courage failing him. It was only after Malfoy had given him a dirty look and started to walk away that he recalled it and called after him. "Wait, please." Draco turned, and gave Ron an amused look.

"Well, well, well. Does Weasley have something to say?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"Please be serious. We need to talk." Draco seemed to think for a moment then nodded his head. Ron took a deep breath, "OK. Here it goes....."

"I think Harry has the wrong impression of you." Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "In fact, he has the wrong impression of me as well." Ron stepped closer to Draco and lowered his voice. "you, uh...you don't like Hermione....do you?" Draco stepped away from Ron nervously, but let his lip curl.

"Why would you ask me something like that?" Ron looked at the ground.

"Harry thinks you like her." Draco rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"Harry thinks you like her as well. Everyone does. And you do. Don't you?" Ron looked up sharply.

"What are you talking about? How could I like her? After all we've been through?" Draco's eyes clouded over.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He spoke quietly, choosing his words carefully. Ron's face fell and he shuffled his feet on the floor.

"You're acting real odd today, Draco. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it." Draco's temper flared.

"Why should I care if you like it or not, Weasel? You are not my problem. My problem is whatever you're going around saying we've been through. Tell me why you want to know if I like the Mudblood." Ron sighed.

"Listen, Draco." He moved back to where he had been, close to Draco's side. "I know out relationship has been a bit rocky. Our relationship has been nearly impossible. I was...just wondering if maybe...you weren't interested in me anymore." Fear had risen in the back of his throat again, and he choked back the tears he knew he couldn't shed.

Draco lept back, a horrified expression on his face, having finally been slapped across the mouth by brutal reality. "Oh GOD! Oh, no, no, NO!" He backed quickly away from Ron, who was momentarily frozen in time by shock. "Weasley! No! No! I can't! I didn't! Never!" He stood there, looking around him furiously for something to hang on to for support. "I ..I don't remember...." Realization came over him like a cloud. "I don't remember! I don't remember!" Several students down the hall stared, laughing at the mad wizard having a serious breakdown. Suddenly he took off running, scattering those brave enough to chuckle. "Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfreeeee.........."

"-Madam Pomfrey! Please! It's an emergency! Please!" Pansy Parkinson ran through the Infirmary, yelling at the top of her voice and waking the inhabitants of the beds. Madam Pomfrey bustled out, looking quite flustered.

"Miss Parkinson! Miss Parkinson! Calm yourself! What has happened!" Pansy gave her best attempt as she struggled for breath.

"Goyle-Gregory--Slytherin-bathroom," she gasped. "Not breathing!" They took off running at high speed for the Dungeons.

"Harry, have you noticed Ron acting strangely this morning?" Hermione and Harry had been sitting in the Gryffendor common room for some time. Hermione had come there expecting to talk to Ron, but he was elsewhere.

" Well, actually, yes. I sort-of snapped at him a little this morning. Made him angry. But he was being a total prat!" He added quickly to redeem himself. Hermione sat up and paid attention.

"Please tell me what you fought about." Harry blushed slightly.

"Well. It was really nothing. I just started talking about how I thought Malfoy-Draco- liked you and he got real huffy. 'Cause you know, Herm...he likes you too."

"No wonder he got angry." Hermione scoffed. She leaned closer to Harry. "You see, he doesn't like me, he likes Malfoy. He's always liked Malfoy." Harry froze. His best friend liked Malfoy? His best friend liked a guy and he didn't know?

"I don't believe you. I can't believe you..I mean this is Ron were talking about here. What makes you think that?" Hermione sighed deeply, a small frown on her face.

"I kinda walked in on them...one time." Harry's moth fell open and he jumped up.

"Gross! Oh, bloody hell!" Harry punched the wall hard, bruising his hand. "Shit!" Hermione rushed to his side and patted his arm.

"Calm down, calm down. They were only kissing!" Hermione tried to soothe her panic-stricken friend. She held him close and she felt her heart wrench with sorrow as Harry's tears dripped down the front of her robes. "Shhhhh....Calm down, calm down-"

"-Calm down, everyone! Please calm down." Madam Pomfrey pushed her way through the crowd of worried Slytherins. "He'll be OK. Mr. Goyle will be fine." Goyle didn't look fine. He lay on his bed, ghostly pale and still unconscious. Pomfrey walked over to Snape, who had been summoned, like her, immediately.

"Attempted suicide, eh, Pomfrey?" He looked coldly at the topic of interest.

"Yes, Professor. He overdosed. Thankfully, he didn't' know that drinking too much sleeping potion would kill him. He's damaged, no doubt, but I can't heal him until he wakes up, and that could be days. Weeks. He drank an enormous amount, and it was unnaturally strong. There is still some danger."

"Any clue why he tried it?" Pomfrey's eyes averted from Snape to the boy.

"I think I know." She shooed the students from the room and closed the door behind herself and Snape. The students went about their lives, but Snape accompanied her down the hall towards the hospital.

"Well. Spill it Pomfrey. I haven't got all day." Pomfrey shrugged and gave in.

"You do know that Mister Malfoy has acute schizophrenia, don't you?" Snape nodded yes.

"Well, Schizophrenics sometimes don't know what they do or say, or they do know what they're doing, but forget later on. I think the blame for this unfortunate event may fall upon young Malfoy's head, but it's not any fault of his own." They walked a little further, lost in private thoughts.

"Why do you think Malfoy has anything to do with this at all? I mean, who knows what went on in Goyle's small brain. He's not exactly brilliant." Pomfrey shook her head knowingly.

"Professor, Mr. Malfoy has told me things. Things I can assure you he wouldn't have said if he were still in his right mind. I know that Mr. Malfoy has something to do with this. I hope to find out before anyone else gets hurt." The silence settled back and they continued on towards the hospital. They were nearly there, only one corridor away, when they heard the screams.