All's Fair

Chapter Two

Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express on the first day of September feeling more nervous than he had been since his first year, which now seemed a lifetime ago. Although he knew he still had ten months to go, he couldn't help the apprehension that this was the beginning of the end: the end of his childhood and his time at Hogwarts, but, much more horribly, also the possible end of his life. Professor Trelawney would have been proud of his inexplicable gut intuition that this would be the year the Divination teacher's prophecy would finally be fulfilled, and that he would be the one to fall when it did.

He didn't know why this dread had overcome him all of the sudden. He had been fighting Voldemort for over six years now, but was certain the dark wizard was determined to finish him off once and for all before he could graduate and be a fully educated wizard. In other words, before he could become a substantial threat to the Dark.

Sighing, Harry took a window seat in an empty compartment, careful to lay his jacket and the worn brown leather bag containing his Hogwarts uniform across some of the seats, saving them for when Hermione, Ron, and Ginny came back from the Prefects car. He leaned his marked forehead against the cool glass and watched the other students giving final hugs and waves to parents, brothers, sisters, trying to not feel jealous or too sorry for himself. Remus, Moody, Tonks, and the rest of the guard that had escorted him to King's Cross had been in a rush to attend to other Order business, and had practically pushed him through the barrier at platform 9 ¾ before hurrying back to Grimmauld Place. Rather anti-climactic for his last time making the trip.

Finally the platform below was emptying, as students clambered onto the train. Harry saw Parvati Patil and Terry Boot meet up with a sweet kiss, again feeling a twist of envy. He'd only dated two girls so far in his seventeen years: the mess with Cho Chang in his fifth year, and the less messy (but still very much over) relationship with Susan Bones in sixth. Both girls had proved to be too clingy for his liking. He had enough people depending on him, and didn't need a girlfriend who did, too.

Gryffindors were supposed to be brave and confident, but Harry just clammed up and forgot those traits when it came to dating. He remembered with embarrassment that Cho and Susan had both been the ones to initiate their first kiss with him, while he just stood there frozen, unable to breath, let alone move.

Movement outside the window brought him back from his thoughts when he saw that Theodore Nott was boarding. Harry bit his lip and blushed slightly as a picture of Nott and Malfoy together invaded his mind yet again. Countless times over the past couple of weeks he had found himself inevitably reminded of the scene at Flourish and Blotts, despite his greatest efforts to forget. The worst part was that he had begun to find the image... fascinating. His heart would beat a little faster, and his breathing would deepen. Now was no exception, as his mind's eye saw the two Slytherins back in that dusty book aisle.

'No, don't even think of it. It's disgusting, it's wrong, it's MALFOY for Merlin's sake,' he scolded himself. 'Get your mind in gear, Potter! I know it was a traumatic thing to witness, but get over it. You've seen worse." Harry closed his eyes and tried to recall what Snape had taught him in his Occlumency lessons. 'Empty yourself of all thought.'

Just as his mind became blank and calm, the compartment door banged open, pulling him back to reality. Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, Seamus Finnigan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley piled inside and sat down, just barely leaving room for the three Gryffindor prefects Harry was saving seats for. He was greeted with a chorus of "Hi Harrys," and couldn't resist grinning back at his friends.

"Hey, everyone," he said, pretending not to notice when Susan moved his bag so that she could sit directly next to him. "How were your holidays?"

Seamus smiled at his dorm-mate. "Not too bad. I went to Muggle Dublin with my parents..."

The group exchanged stories of the summer, as the Hogwarts Express went deeper into the wilderness of the countryside. Harry felt increasingly awkward as Susan took every opportunity to flirt with him, constantly leaning in to talk in his ear or casually touch his arm. By the time the snack trolley had come around, her hand had settled on his left thigh, periodically squeezing it when no one was looking. With the distraction of Cauldron Cakes and pumpkin juice to cover him, Harry quickly left the compartment with his bag slung over his shoulder, explaining to them he needed to go change into his school robes.

Emerging from the small lavatory fifteen minutes later, Harry hoped desperately that the prefects would be done with their meeting. He was heading back down the train's hall when he heard the noticeably gloating voice of Draco Malfoy carrying from a compartment on his left. Rolling his eyes, the dark haired boy ignored it, and instead was just glad that Ron, Hermione and Ginny would be free to protect him from his ex-girlfriend's advances.

Re-entering the compartment, however, Harry found that his previously bubbling-with-joy friends were all slouched sullenly. He squeezed past eight pairs of legs to reclaim his spot by the window, looking at them all confusedly. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Hey, guys, who died?" he asked, then mentally slapped himself. 'Not the smartest question to ask during a war, Potter,' he reprimanded silently.

Ron's scowl deepened before he replied, "Dumbledore's sense of loyalty, reason, and sanity." Harry blinked.

When Ron didn't explain further, Hermione sighed. "Ron, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has his reasons for choosing the way he did. Besides, he can't just not pick a student because of their sour personality. I mean, the prat does have the second highest scores in our year."

Harry's heart sank in dread. "Herm, what are you talking about?" he questioned, though he thought he had a good idea.

The brunette sighed again. "Malfoy," she said disgustedly, "has been made Head Boy."

His fears confirmed, Harry slunk down in his seat, pouting with the rest of them. He had already learned over the summer that Hermione was to be the new Head Girl, and had been mildly insulted that his other best friend hadn't been appointed her counterpart.

'Merlin, what is Dumbledore thinking, choosing that ferret-faced git over Ron!?'

The group's silent sulking was interrupted when the compartment door swiftly swung open, revealing a surprisingly solitary Malfoy.

"Ah, if it isn't the Gryffindork trio and their groupies."

"Get lost, Malfoy," Ginny shot back. She, too, seemed offended that her brother had been passed over for the Slytherin.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Mind your tone, Weasel Jr. You wouldn't want to give me any reason to deduct house points." He smiled, and with a long finger tapped a gleaming silver badge pinned to his uniform's silver and green tie. "Don't forget, I'm Head Boy now."

"You can't take points," Justin argued, sitting up straight. "We're not even at Hogwarts yet!"

Malfoy scowled briefly, but quickly brightened up. "Fine, but the little Weasel gets a detention with Filch for being so rude to me, and you, Finch-Fletchley, get one, too, to set an example of what happens when people cross me."

"How did a prick like you ever get picked for Head Boy!?" Ron growled, his fists clenched dangerously. "I guess you had to have Daddy buy your way in, just like in Quidditch!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "At least my father could afford it, Weasel. But, no, my acquirement of the position was based solely on my wit, charm, intelligence and athletic ability. Not to mention my exquisite aesthetic appeal."

Harry wrinkled his nose and rolled his jade eyes in annoyance. "Doesn't it hurt your back to kiss your own arse like that, Malfoy?" he asked coolly. "Wait. Silly me, I forgot. Slytherins don't have backbones."

Neville, Seamus and Ron guffawed appreciatively, but Malfoy didn't so much as bat an eye. "Detention, Potter. Oh, and I can't forget your earlier insolence, Weasley. You both can join the other losers in Filch's office tomorrow night at eight."

Harry bit back another retort. It would only get him in deeper, and he didn't want to spend his first week at Hogwarts with Filch and his horrid cat, of all things. Like it or not, Malfoy now had the authority to be as vicious and unfair in delivering punishments as Snape was. He noticed his friends all looked as angry, frustrated, and helpless as he felt.

The pale-skinned blonde's lips stretched into a terrible grin when he caught sight of their long faces. "You all look so grim. Who died?" he mocked, unknowingly echoing Harry's earlier statement. "Oh, wait. Stupid question - basically anyone Potty hangs around with croaks it sooner or later. Usually sooner."

Harry jumped up with the intention of knocking out a few of the Slytherin's straight white teeth, but Susan grabbed his arm in restraint, while Hermione held an irate Ron back.

"What? It's true," Malfoy said innocently, smirking at their reaction, as he leaned on the doorframe. He crossed his robe-clad arms and looked directly into Harry's furious gaze. "I mean, first you got your dad killed, and your mum. Then of course there was Diggory. Oh, and we can't forget that stupid mutt-"

Pure rage propelled the Gryffindor from Susan's grip with a snarl, and he threw himself at Malfoy so that they both tumbled into the train's hall. The force knocked Malfoy off his feet, and the Slytherin dragged Harry down with him. So enraged was he, Harry hardly noticed that the compartment doors surrounding them opened, as curious students peered out to see what the commotion was about. Malfoy didn't even resist or try to shove the smaller boy off of him; instead, he lashed out with words.

"What's the matter, Potter?" he spat, his heavy breath from the struggle caressing the frosty blonde hair that had fallen in his face. "It's not like any of them were worth getting this excited over. Especially that bastard blood-traitor Black-"

Harry lifted Malfoy up by the collar of his shirt and robes, then slammed and pinned his enemy's back to the wall, effectively stopping the boy from continuing his ugly remarks. When Harry finally gained enough control to speak, his voice was iced over with a quiet, deadly calm.

"I'm only going to say this once, you disgusting disgrace of a wizard, so listen closely. If you ever insult Sirius Black in my presence again, I swear to you on his grave that they will be the last words you'll ever speak." Hate-filled silver and green eyes bore into each other, neither relenting to the other. Harry saw the whisper of a smirk that remained on Malfoy's expression and was determined to erase it. Completely forgetting that they had an audience, he prattled on, wanting only to hurt the boy in front of him as much as possible. "That man was worth a hundred of you, Malfoy. And don't you dare call him a blood-traitor. At least he wasn't a perverted queer like you and your little boyfriend. Believe me when I say that I won't hesitate to inform Daddy Dearest of your preferences in bed and how I saw you practically dry-humping Nott, if you don't learn to keep your pillow-biting mouth shut!"

A surprised murmur from the crowd that surrounded them suddenly brought Harry out of his fury enough to realize that they weren't alone, and he shut his eyes in shock at the horrible awareness of what he had just said and done. He released his hold on the blonde, staggering back a step. Opening his eyes, he saw Malfoy staring at him with a loathing he hadn't known possible. After a few minutes of terrible silence that seemed to last a lifetime, Malfoy finally broke it.

"I'd rather be a "perverted queer" than a sanctimonious hypocrite," he hissed. "Tell me, Potter, does the self-righteous creed that the Gryffindors spout against bigotry pertain only to Mudbloods and werewolves, or are you just this narrow-minded when it comes to someone's sexuality?"

After straightening out his robes and smoothing back his hair, Malfoy cleared his expression so that one would never know his reputation and dignity had just taken a hard blow. The throng of students had let out a collective gasp at Malfoy's unexpected admittance to being gay, but Harry could only lower his gaze and feel ashamed of his own cruel slip of tongue, and privately admire his rival's nerve.

Malfoy started to exit through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea. Stealing his own nerve, Harry called out to him, with full intentions of giving the blonde the public apology he deserved.

"Malfoy, wait-"

The Slytherin paused mid-step, but didn't turn around. "Oh, and Potter? Make that an entire month of detentions; but don't bother going to Filch tomorrow. They'll be held under my supervision. You're to meet me in front of the Great Hall at 8pm sharp. I advise you not to be late." And with that, he disappeared into a compartment on the other side of the train.

Harry swallowed thickly, and quickly dashed into his own compartment, a furious Hermione and a surprisingly silent Ron right on his heels. In a low voice, so as not to draw any more attention to what had just happened, Hermione let him have it.

"Harry James Potter, I can't even believe-" Her face turned a beet red, her mouth pinched in a terrible line. "Never in my life have I been so appalled by someone!! How could you be so spiteful? You just had to tell the entire school, didn't you? After you promised me you wouldn't!"

Burrowing his face in his hands, Harry sat down, while Ron closed and locked the compartment door behind them so that no one else could wander in.

"I know, Hermione. Merlin, believe me when I say I wish I'd never opened my stupid mouth," he groaned. He lifted his gaze to look at them both. "He just makes me so bloody angry! He had no right to say what he did about Sirius... I just wanted to make him hurt so badly! I didn't even really mean what I said."

Briefly closing her eyes, Hermione sank into the seat opposite Harry with a sigh. "Well, you definitely succeeded in hurting him, I'm sure, no matter how well he hides it." Reaching across the short distance, she took Harry's hand in her own, looking directly into his emerald orbs. "Harry, you have really got to work on controlling your temper. Okay, maybe you didn't intend to say what you did, but the point is you did say it. Ever since the end of fourth year, you've been harboring some dark bitterness that makes you lash out at everyone. You're right, Malfoy should have kept his mouth shut about Sirius, but that doesn't mean you should fight fire with fire."

Ron, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole ordeal, sat next to Hermione to address Harry nervously. "She's right, you know," he said, and hurriedly added, "I don't mean about Malfoy, I think that stupid prat deserves whatever shots we can give him, but you've been so hostile these past couple of years. Especially after... you know, the Ministry incident with Sirius."

Biting his lip against the sudden prickling in his eyes, Harry gave a sad smile to the two best friends he had ever had. "I know I've been acting resentful of you both for some time now. I don't mean to, but I- ... I thought that if Wormtail was caught, I'd feel better, you know? But it just didn't work that way. I don't know what to do with myself anymore, I just want this war over and everyone responsible for my losses to suffer the same way I have."

"Alright, but Harry, you can't go around with this cloud over your head forever! And it's not just the attitude you've had lately, but the things you say are just so offensive. The Harry I know would never have resorted to the malicious slurs you were throwing at Malfoy," Hermione chastised. "Do you have any idea of the damage you've probably done?" Harry sank lower in his seat.

Ron let out a low whistle, and ran a freckled hand through his hair. "Yeah, mate, I still can't believe it. Is it really true you saw Malfoy and Nott together?"

Harry nodded miserably, cheeks pinking slightly at the reminder. "And now all of Hogwarts will know before we even reach the castle." He anxiously squeezed Hermione's hand. "I truly am sorry, Herm. You don't think his family will really disown him, do you?" Her expression softened when she saw he was sincere, and she gave him a gentle squeeze back.

Ron looked thoughtful. "You know, I doubt Lucius would do that, seeing as Draco's his only heir." He smirked, suddenly smug. "I bet now he'll be kicking himself that he didn't have more kids like my parents did. Really, though, making out with another boy? In a public place? Malfoy's brought a huge disgrace on his family, so there's no telling what will happen. It just goes to show that even the purest of purebloods can be defective," he snorted. Hermione shook her head at her boyfriend.

Harry tried to smile back at his best friend, but it came off as more of a grimace. He was slightly taken aback that Ron thought of homosexuality as a defect, but remembered Hermione's words about the wizarding world. Ron had grown up in it, so of course he would follow their moral beliefs. He probably thought all gay men were perverts.

'Maybe he's right. Besides, I was just calling the ferret a pillow-biter, for Merlin's sake. Who am I to criticize what Ron thinks?' he remembered. 'Malfoy was right. I'm a complete hypocrite.'

The three of them sat in relative silence for the remainder of their journey, each lost in their own thoughts.

*

It was just past dusk when the Thestral-drawn carriages arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry's gate. After filing into the Great Hall, Harry took his seat with his fellow Gryffindor seventh years, his head low, trying desperately not to notice the urgent whispers of the other students. It seemed even some of the staff were excited over the new gossip, if the looks on Professors Flitwick and Sinistra's faces were anything to go by.

Risking a quick glance at the Slytherin table, he was relieved to note that Malfoy's house was accepting him despite the scandal. 'At least I haven't completely screwed his last year here by losing him all of his friends. Not that losing that lot would be such a big deal.' Turning his full attention to the seventh year Slytherins, Harry saw that Malfoy was looking as bad-tempered as ever, but Nott was nowhere to be seen. Confused, he turned to point this out to Hermione when McGonagall marched through the entrance with a line of first years in tow.

It was in a sort of daze that the rest of the feast passed by. Harry vaguely listened to Dumbledore's familiar warning about the Forbidden Forest and using magic in the corridors, and heard him introduce their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (Professor Venatici). He perked up slightly when the Sorting Hat sang the last song he would ever hear from it as a Hogwarts student, and cheered along with his friends when new Gryffindors were sorted into his house.

Throughout the entire evening, however, his gaze kept drifting towards the Slytherins. He wasn't surprised at the hateful looks many of them were shooting in his direction, but wanted to crawl under the table when he caught Malfoy's eye and saw an unexpected hint of shame and hurt in the ordinarily cold grey orbs before the pureblood heir quickly repaired his mask of indifference, turning to look away from Harry.

To his luck, Hermione had caught the brief exchange, and she nudged Harry in the stomach with her elbow. Looking pointedly at the platinum blonde across the Hall, she whispered, "And you had better apologize to him, Harry Potter, I don't care what your excuses for your behavior are."

"But, Hermione, I already have to sit in detention with the spoiled arse ordering me around for an entire month! Isn't that punishment enough?" he pleaded.

But the Head Girl was not about to cave. "You have an entire month to think up a way to tell him, then," she replied, firmly, her eyebrows lowered. "I'm warning you now, Harry, if you haven't told him you're sorry by the end of the month, I'm going to put you in another months worth of detention. With me."

The Boy Who Lived whimpered.

*

Dragging his exhausted legs up the steps to his dormitory later that night, Harry collapsed onto his four-poster bed. All seventh years were given private rooms to sleep in, a special privilege for final-years that Harry was extremely grateful for. He would miss his roommates' morning antics considerably, but with his sleep constantly interrupted by embarrassing nightmares, the privacy would keep him from waking anyone else up with his restlessness.

A knock on the door was barely heard when Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, and Seamus Finnigan rushed in before he could utter a response. Seamus practically leaped on top of Harry in his excitement. Letting out a small yelp, Harry looked in exasperation at the Irish boy.

"Seamus! What the bloody hell are you doing?" He noticed the three other Gryffindors were watching him, expectantly. "What?"

Dean and Seamus turned to each other, silently deciding who would ask, while Neville bit his lip nervously in the background. Finally Dean spoke up. "Is it true? What you said on the train about Malfoy?"

Harry groaned inwardly, cursing his big mouth once again. He didn't know quite how he should respond to this. Things were already a big enough mess as it was, but there didn't seem to be any point denying it, seeing as Malfoy himself had pretty much admitted he was gay in front of them anyway.

"Yeah, it's true," he sighed. "I saw him and Theodore Nott snogging in Diagon Alley this summer, but that's all I know and I don't want to talk about it, so can we please just drop it?"

Neville's eyebrows rose into his hairline, and Seamus whispered a soft "Merlin!" Dean merely gave a small nod, and attempted to change the subject with some success. Having witnessed Harry's temper earlier that day, he wasn't about to test the onyx-haired boy's patience.

As soon as they left, Harry made a beeline to the bathroom so that he could get ready for bed, but once he was finally under the warm covers, sleep evaded him. It had been quite the eventful day. He couldn't remember the last time he had ever felt so guilty in his life, especially over someone like Malfoy. Yes, Malfoy was a horrible, despicable brat who would most likely become a Death Eater after graduation, but Hermione was right. Whether he deserved them or not, Harry's vindictive comments were below what a Gryffindor should do.

Harry had always prided himself on how well he handled Malfoy and other bullies over the years. Maybe it was from having to deal with Dudley and his gang all of his life ("Harry Hunting" was a game he wasn't soon to forget), but in the past Harry had managed to keep a level head when confronted with another's ugly remarks. He rarely resorted to physical violence like he had today. 'In fact, Malfoy is probably the only person to piss me off enough to get such a reaction from me,' he mused, remembering the Quidditch-game turned Boxing-match in his fifth year.

Sighing, Harry rolled over to lay on his side, happy to see that he had a clear view of the moon from his dorm window. There was no point in trying to empty his thoughts tonight, as he couldn't help but see his confrontation with his archrival over and over again. He saw himself shouting the terrible insults with Malfoy pinned to the wall of the train, the blonde's face flushed with anger.

The image distorted to show the same flushed boy, this time pink with passion, pressed against Nott in the dim aisle of an old bookshop. Suddenly it wasn't Nott his mind saw being held and kissed by Malfoy, but himself. He could see the grey eyes, drilling into him and keeping him unable to move. Malfoy's soft tongue would quickly sneak out to ask his own lips for entrance, their bodies as close as they had been on the train today-

"Whoa!!" Harry startled. He stopped his hand, which had disappeared under the sheets and was slowly creeping into his boxers. What in the name of all that was Light was he doing?! Wanking off to Draco Malfoy of all people? What, was he suddenly going to turn queer too, just because he saw one sodding kiss? That was so preposterous that he let out a small chuckle to the empty room.

"No way," he reassured himself, frantically attempting to ignore the arousal that had been growing between his legs. This is a perfectly ordinary, teenage-hormonal reaction. For Merlin's sake, he was a seventeen year old boy! His body would respond to anything.

At any rate, he wasn't going to spend the last of his first nights in Hogwarts worrying over it or contemplating anything to do with bloody Malfoy. Even with this conviction set sternly in his mind, it was a long while before he was finally able to drift off to sleep.