Put My World Back Together

"Well, well, well. Potter, Weasley, and their pet Mudblood are back for another year-- barely, of course."

16-year-old Harry Potter raised his head and latched his green eyes onto the slender blonde in the doorway. "Malfoy, don't you have some kind of life outside of bothering us? Or are we just that special?"

The blonde stepped into the train compartment, followed closely by the sycophantic Crabbe and Goyle. "Oh, you're terribly special to me, Potter, whatever would I do without Saint Potter here to save the day?"

"Wank, I suspect." Ron, who sat next to Harry, felt that it was his turn to join the conversation. Across from the red-head Hermione cringed-- she was never a fan of crass humor. Neither, however, was she a fan of Draco Malfoy nor of being referred to as the "pet mudblood."

"Malfoy, if you've not got any new and interesting insults for us, I suggest you leave," the brunette glared at Draco, whose eyes remained on Harry and Ron.

"Leave? But we just got here!" With a signal to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco sat himself down on the bench next to Hermione. Crabbe followed suit, sitting next to Harry, but Goyle, finding no room left for him to sit, remained standing.

"You know, Ron, I am suddenly in the mood for some chocolate. I'm going to go get some from the trolley, you want any?" Harry stood and made for the door.

"I think I'll go with you, Harry. The room has suddenly begun to stink in here," Ron sneered at Malfoy's thugs. Harry was about to reply that someone should stay with Hermione when Draco interrupted.

"Perhaps that's just your used robes starting to rot, Weasley," Draco smirked. Ron, never one to take insult to his family's financial situation, suddenly made to punch the blonde, but Harry grabbed him back. Ron turned and gaped at Harry, clearly not understanding his green eyed best friend's purpose in stopping him. Harry, keeping his eyes on the Slytherin, explained.

"No, Ron, he's mine for the beating. What do you think, Malfoy, just you and me, furthest compartment down?"

Draco jumped up in an almost gleeful manner and faced Harry eye-for-eye. "If you think you can handle it, Potter."

With that, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, the most heated pair of archrivals Hogwarts had seen since the now legendary rivalry between Sirius Black and Severus Snape, stormed off towards the end of the train, followed closely by Crabbe, Goyle, Ron, and Hermione, the latter two talking to their friend.

"Harry, I don't think this is a brilliant idea, what if you get caught? You'll be in trouble the very first day back and you'll lose us a ton of points and that's EXACTLY what Malfoy wants, Harry, and you know it!" Hermione babbled on and on in this point for the entire walk.

Ron, on the other hand, was much excited. "Don't be daft, Hermione, any points Harry loses will be taken from Malfoy too. Kick his arse, Harry!"

Finally the group (who had attracted a great deal of attention by this time) made it to the final compartment on the train.

"Crabbe, Goyle, don't try coming to find me unless I don't come out for at least an hour and half or so. I want to enjoy this." Draco smirked as he cracked his knuckles.

"They'll be coming in to scrape you off the floor, and I guarantee that you won't be enjoying it, Malfoy," Harry grinned cheekily before stepping into the compartment.

"Are you sure you don't want me with you, Harry?" Ron asked, clearly wanting to see Malfoy get beaten into a bloody pulp (and clearly wanting to help as well).

"One on one, Weasley, you sit and hold his hand in the Hospital wing for as many hours as you'd like after that," Malfoy sneered, suddenly seeming angry, and walked into the compartment, slamming the door shut and locking it. He swiftly cast an extra locking spell as well as a silencing spell on the compartment before he felt Harry come up behind him.

"You do get turned on by these little 'fights', don't you?" Harry grinned as he slipped his arms around Draco's slender waist, planting a light kiss on the blonde's pale neck.

"Actually, it's just seeing you after three months apart," Draco replied breathily, turning around and pulling Harry closer. "Though you'd think seeing that Weasel would reverse the effects."

As soon as those last words had left his mouth, Draco knew he shouldn't have said that. Sure enough, Harry's embrace faltered slightly, and the raven-haired boy backed off. "I wish I didn't have to lie to him." Harry, avoiding Draco's eyes, turned instead to the window. "I wish I could tell him. I mean, I know it's just not safe to tell everyone yet, but I wish I could tell at least him and Hermione."

Draco sighed, resigned to repeating this conversation yet again. "But Harry, he'd probably slaughter me! He'd probably think that you were under a spell or something, or--" Draco's voice turned unimaginably bitter. "Or he'd think it was some sort of Death Eater trap that I was creating for you."

"Well it's not like you're helping, insulting him like that!" Harry was clearly exasperated. "Why the fuck do you hate him so much, anyway?!"

"You want to know why I hate Weasley?" Draco sneered. "Fine. I'll tell you why." Harry suddenly found himself pinned against the wall, Draco's face mere centimeters away from his own. Draco's soft voice hissed, and Harry could feel the words breathed onto his lips. "I hate him...because I saw you first." With a final half-hearted shove, Draco backed off and sprawled on the seat, leaving his green-eyed lover to blink in confusion. "That day, in Madame Malkin's...you walked in, with your too-big clothes, and your too-big eyes, and I didn't understand it at the time, but I claimed you as mine right then and there, at least in my head. And you KNOW how awful I am about sharing."

"But you acted like a right prat to me! You didn't even give a damn when I told you my parents were dead!" Harry had by this time recounted the incident, which had left his mind in the face of all the other Draco-related events in his time at Hogwarts.

"Well, what the fuck was I supposed to say? I'd never met anyone with dead parents before. I'd barely met ANYone before. You may think I was some kind of experienced world traveller or something, but I can count the number of times I'd left the Manor at that point on one hand! The only kids I'd ever met were Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini! Of COURSE I acted like a right prat, I WAS a right prat, I'd never known anything else!" Draco slammed his head into the wall behind him, as if the action was less painful than remembering his upbringing. "And as if that wasn't enough...on the train, I found out that the Boy who wore Oversized Clothing was also the Boy who Lived, and I was so excited-- wouldn't it be great to be friends with him! Even father would have been proud. I came into your compartment that day, and who should I see but the great Harry Potter and a Weasley."

"And then you insulted Ron, too, and he was the first person I'd ever met who was interested in becoming friends!"

"Of COURSE I insulted him. First off, I'd been raised to think of the Weasleys as scum, I'd never actually met one before. And second, that stupid git had to go laugh at my name, as if his was SO much better! So of COURSE I responded by trying to piss him off! What else was I going to do, surrounded by all these people-- and you?!"

"You insulted Ron to impress me?"

"Among other things. Honestly, my life had been almost completely isolated, I had never been with other kids and I didn't know how I was supposed to act. As far as Father was concerned, as long as I acted superior to everyone else, everything would work out fine-- but it clearly didn't." Draco slumped further into his seat and continued miserably. "After all, you chose Weasley back then, didn't you?"

"Er...well, I suppose..." Harry stammered, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the situation. He hadn't much experience with comforting anyone, let alone someone like Draco.

"You shattered my world that day, Harry."

Harry slumped against the wall in silence, letting Draco's words sink into him. Jealous. Yes, he could see why Draco would be jealous of Ron. What secret boyfriend wouldn't be jealous of the public best friend? And Draco in particular could be very, very jealous. He had never accused Harry of cheating on him-- he always said, "Why would you want to cheat on THIS?" and motioned to himself. But Draco could never help glaring if Ginny, or Colin, or one of the members of the Quidditch team, or even a teacher stood closer to Harry than he liked. He was used to having things to himself, and as he said, he didn't like to share. What he didn't seem to understand was that Harry had more than enough heart to give to Draco, and to Ron, and to Hermione.

Harry was certain that Draco and Ron could get along if they'd just forget family names and houses. But he also knew that the day that such a thing could happen would be far, far in the future. Harry also knew that he would never be able to handle his tumultuous life if either boy was to leave his life. And Draco-- Draco needed Harry as much as Harry needed him, perhaps more so. Secret was the best way to keep things for now, though Harry knew he'd have to deal with an extremely hurt Ron when the time came for it to be told.

And in truth, Harry enjoyed having a secret. Since the age of 11 his life had been published to the public of the Wizarding World almost daily, along with his friends' doings and sometimes even his marks were published. He didn't find this out until fifth year, when he started really reading through Hermione's Daily Prophets. But the papers made no mention of Draco, though an article about Harry's possible 'preferences' had made its way to the tabloid of the Wizarding World, Verita View. Harry preference was really just for privacy, and his meetings with Draco were like entering a different world, a world where he could say and do as he pleased because there wasn't an audience watching to report on him, as the reporters did, or to punish him, as the Dursleys did. Yes, secrets are good to have.

His mind thus made up, Harry walked slowly to where Draco sat staring at the ceiling, his arms wrapped around his knees. Harry gently rearranged the blonde's arms around Harry's neck and, slipping between Draco's legs, wrapped his own arms around the Slytherin's slender waist and looked straight into his stormy blue-grey eyes.

"Then let me put your world back together."

No more words were spoken for at least two hours, when Ron came and banged on the door, demanding that the two "enemies" come out.

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