Oblivious

Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter.

He hated everything about him: his robes, always rumpled, as if he had been sleeping in them, his glasses, with their thin wire frames encircling those eyes, those hateful brilliant green eyes that always looked at him like they could see deep inside him, to the places that Draco was not willing to admit existed. And the worst part about it was that Harry didn't care - either that he could see into those places or that they were there to begin with. Harry would look at you with contempt, or sometimes with pity, and that was the worst part because contempt was something Draco could deal with, something he understood, but he had no defence for pity. People did not pity Malfoys - they gazed at them in awe and wished that they could be one, have one, control one... no one ever felt sorry for one. But Harry did, and Draco hated that about him.

He hated it more than the fact that Harry always scored higher than Draco on exams - just two or three extra points that shouldn't even matter. But they did matter. Draco hated that they mattered, as much as he hated the way Harry was always forgetting to tuck in his shirt, or the way he would chew on the end of his quill in class.

Draco hated how Harry ate, not taking time to savour his meal but stuffing it all in his mouth as quickly as possible. Sometimes someone would tell Harry a joke while he was eating, and Harry would burst out laughing, sending food spraying all over his plate. Draco hated that, and he also hated the way that Harry laughed, hated how it would start deep inside of him and would pour from his mouth to echo gleefully down the Hogwarts stone corridors. Stupid Harry with his stupid glasses and his stupid laugh.

Draco had tried to explain to his father once how much he hated Harry Potter, how irritating his messy black hair was, how his lightening bolt scar was just slightly off-centre on his forehead, how his fingernails were always cut down to the quick - but his father didn't care. Lucius Malfoy had simply asked Draco why he cared so much about Harry's hair, and his scar, and his fingernails. Draco had retorted quickly that he didn't care, cared nothing at all about Harry's too-bony wrists, or the ugly black leather satchel he carried his books around in, or about how he was always flicking his hair out of his eyes whenever he bent over his homework in the library. He told his father that it couldn't matter less to him.

But it did.

It mattered when Draco was watching Harry in Potions, watching how Harry sat in his chair. Harry would drape himself over it, quickly snapping to attention whenever Professor Snape came by to check on his progress, and then ever-so-slowly sliding downwards again. Draco hated it. He hated it so much that he watched Harry repeat it four times before Draco realized that his potion was being scorched. Draco swore under his breath and began feverishly stirring it, but he could see his Confounding Concoction would never get beyond slightly confusing its victim. He glared furiously in Harry's direction, because of course it was all Harry's fault that the potion had been ruined. If Harry hadn't been sitting in such a distracting way, then Draco would have been paying attention to his potion instead of Harry. Yes, it was all Harry's fault.

And yet, Draco was going to be the one who would receive the poor mark for his work! It was all very unfair, but Draco couldn't think of a way out of it. Snape would be willing to listen to any excuse Draco could come up with for the ruined potion, but Draco couldn't tell Snape that the reason it had burned was because Draco had been too busy watching the way that Harry Potter sat in his chair. It would sound like Draco was obsessing over Harry or something, which of course he wasn't, but Draco didn't expect Snape to understand that.

Just because Draco always looked to see where Harry was whenever he entered a room, or spent nearly all his free time thinking about Harry, thinking about the way he flew when they played Quidditch together, how the wind mussed Harry's hair even more than usual, and how graceful Harry looked whenever he dived for the Snitch, just because of that, Snape would call Draco's feelings about Harry obsessive. He knew Snape wouldn't understand that Draco thought about Harry so much because he hated him so badly. Hadn't Snape ever heard the saying know your enemy? Draco followed its advice faithfully - and he did know Harry, knew him intimately.

Draco knew the way the light flashed against Harry's glasses whenever they crossed the grass to go to Care of Magical Creatures. Draco knew that Harry liked jam on his toast, not butter, although he would eat butter if his well-meaning friends brought it to him at breakfast. Draco knew that Harry wanted to be an Auror when he grew up, knew the exact number of times that Harry had been in the hospital wing since he had entered Hogwarts, knew how silly Harry felt whenever someone asked him for his autograph.

Draco knew that Harry lived at Number Four, Privet Drive over the summer, although he usually went to stay with the Weasleys for the greater part of it. Draco had gone to great lengths to find out all this information. It didn't really make sense. After all, he hated everything about Harry.

Draco hated the way that Harry went up steps. He watched Harry as they headed up the stairs, leaving the dungeons. Draco watched how Harry put one foot on each stair, chattering animatedly with his friends. Draco hated how Harry talked. He hated that Harry's voice had broken over the summer, and now it was deep and slightly husky and sent funny shivers down Draco's back whenever they got into a fight. Draco had been picking more fights with Harry lately. Although, he said to himself as Harry reached the top of the flight of stairs, the fights had nothing to do with the way Harry's voice made Draco feel. Well, maybe they did.

But what else did Harry expect, talking the way he did? And walking, and eating, and cutting his fingernails the way he did. Harry knew that Draco hated the way Harry did all those things. Or maybe he didn't. That was another thing Draco hated about Harry, how oblivious he was.

In fact, Draco mused to himself as he mounted the top of the stairs, staring after Harry as the Gryffindors went on their way to Transfiguration. He stared at how Harry was slightly duck-footed and stood too straight to compensate for being so short.

That might be the worst thing of all. His obliviousness.