Unpredictable Moderation

Harry Potter, more commonly known as the Boy-Who-Lived, liked the idea of moderation. Though he was not a stickler for everything to be the same everyday, seeing how he constantly managed to get himself killed at least once every year without trying, he prided himself in having certain things that were constant in his life.

Harry liked moderation, as it was one of the things he could control. Seeing how his whole life was suddenly determined if Voldemort, the evil rabid dark lord who struck fear in everyone's heart just by the mention of his name, was about to strike again. Since he even knew he was a wizard at the age of 11 and that he was a hero, Harry liked to at least have some kind of hold on how he led his life, no matter how miserable, thank you very much.

Ron and Hermione; now these were two people he could count on to be moderate. Their daily bickering was so constant that it was as if it were a habit already. They would squabble over something as small as about what the weather was like, with Hermione insisting that it was just a sun shower, and Ron rebutting that it was a drizzle. Even when they finally realized that their squabbling was a result of their hormonal tension between each other and finally got around to hooking up together, Harry was very gratefully to note that their squabbling did not stop, and the only change was that this squabbling would end up in an impromptu snogging session, where Harry would look away with a suppressed grin of amusement tugging at his lips.

Harry did not know when he started caring for moderation in his life. His best bet was that it started in the beginning of his Seventh year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry, just fresh from the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. After that incident, he had come to value the routines that kept him moving through each day of his life. These routines kept him from thinking too much, kept him from sinking in the pit of despair that threatened to swallow him up every time he came to think about Sirius and the fact that his only thing closest to him as a kin was gone before Harry could even get to know him better. Keeping to the routines Harry set himself prevented Harry from thinking back to the moment of his godfather's death; with his body arching gracefully in mid-air as the spell that led to his death absorbed into his body and did the fatal damage, and then in slow motion, gliding down back to the surface and disappearing behind the veil that now separated Harry and his Godfather. He kept to the routines, to keep himself from thinking about Remus's expression when he realized that another of his best friend was now also gone, left to join James Potter, Harry Potter's dead father and Remus's other best friend. The routines kept him from thinking too much, and helped him concentrate on getting through the day as he had planned.

As his constant, moderate routines were the only thing that kept him sane through the days, he would react very strongly if they were ever disrupted. Harry could remember one incident when his Charms essay had kept him awake until the wee hours of the morning, and thus resulted in him missing his early morning walk around the lake near the school. That daily walk was the only time when he allowed himself to think and grief, for he had learnt the hard way that avoiding the problem was worse than facing it. He had been so angry at missing it, that he walked around the whole day, snapping at everyone who spoke to him, and glaring at Professor Flitwick, his Charms teacher whenever he was in his line of sight. During Charms lessons that day, Harry was morbidly amused at seeing the Professor squirm slightly under Harry's constant glare at him. Even Malfoy, Harry's archenemy, did not bother him that day in fear of facing Harry's wrath. He only snapped out of it in the evening when Hermione and Ron persuaded him to forgive Professor Flitwick, and wouldn't he please stop glaring at everyone as if it were their fault?

Strange as it was, Harry counted 'exchanging insults with Malfoy' as part of his daily routine. It was hardly anything Harry could prevent or even control, as it was usually Malfoy who provoked their verbal and physical tussles, but curiously enough, it was one routine he went through everyday where he would feel ... alive. During one of his daily routine walks around the school lake, he found himself looking into the murky brown water and somehow, the silvers that reflected off it reminded Harry of Malfoy's Immaculate Silver Hair. That led Harry to contemplate deeply on why he hated Draco Malfoy, when he suddenly came to an uneasy realization the he didn't hate Malfoy. Yes, he loathed Malfoy and found him an unbearable, irritating, arrogant and bloody annoying brat who bragged extravagantly about everything he had and taunted Harry for what he couldn't have.

But Harry didn't hate Malfoy, he realized. He counted on Malfoy to make him feel like Harry again.

Since Sirius's death, everyone - even Hermione and Ron (who should have known better) - had been treating Harry like an exploding bomb that would go off any moment if not handled with extra care and an overdose of concern. Everyone favored Harry, making sure that Harry was feeling alright. During an argument, everyone would give in to Harry quickly, and if there was something that Harry didn't like, everyone would make sure that it was gotten rid off. If Harry were sick, everyone would moon over him and make sure that Harry was feeling alright. The Professors fussed over him, and looked the other way whenever Harry broke a school rule (intentionally or not) and waved it off, muttering that it was just his pent-up anger and teenage rebellion. Besides, Harry had gone through so much that it was okay for him to be angry and upset, so no worries about it.

Harry hated it. He hated the way everyone would treat him like he was going to drop down dead if they denied him anything.

Harry was almost horrified to find himself looking forward to Potions class, which was, sadly, the only class that made him feel anything close to normal. He welcomed the familiar rush of anger which would overcome him whenever Snape either picked on him or deducted points from Gryffindor House for the most ridiculous (sometimes, he did both at the same time, to the morbid delight of Harry), and ignored the pitying looks the other Gryffindors gave him during these 'incidents'.

What he wanted most was for everyone to treat him normally, but no matter how many times he told them that, they would only smile knowingly at him and pat his head pityingly. Harry didn't want pity. He wanted normality.

On the Hogwarts express at the start of the term, with Hermione and Ron away in the Prefect's Carriage, leaving Harry to himself, Malfoy entered the compartment he was in with Greg and Goyle flanking him at his sides as usual, sneering at him with frost in his cold, dark silver-blue eyes.

'Don't think that now everyone's mooning over you, Potter, that I would start too. I loathe you and I will never stop loathing you. So take that stupid notion in your head that I would stop insulting you and your friends, and drop dead and die as soon as possible to spare me the agony of having to watch everyone cooing over you like a puppy.'

'I never ever thought for one moment that you would, Malfoy.' Harry replied smoothly, though Harry was feeling anything but smooth, with his hands balled up discreetly in his lap. He felt rather than saw Malfoy's eyes narrow in his direction, and to his surprise, Malfoy nodded curtly in his direction and strutted out of the compartment without another word. He was not the only one surprised at Malfoy's lack of further insults, Harry noted as he glared expectantly at Greg and Goyle to follow Malfoy and get out of his compartment. When the two goons finally recovered from their shock, they glared and bared their teeth and made to follow Malfoy.

In the beginning, the Slytherins gave a wide berth to Harry after Sirius's death, mainly for the same reason the rest of the school did: they were afraid of Harry, though they hated to admit it. However, it only lasted for the first few days. It was as if they were given a pep talk by someone to stop favoring Potter. Harry was almost surprised when a Slytherin had tried to trip him over as he passed the Slytherin table to get to the Gryffindor's in the Great Hall during dinner a day later. Hermione and Ron immediately started to fuss over Harry and he shook them off, instinctively glaring at where a blond-haired Slytherin sat nearby, smirking nastily. Harry welcomed the fresh surge of irritation that overcame him, and channeled it into a kick he aimed at the smart-ass Slytherin who attempted to trip him. He quickly walked out of the Great Hall before he could start a bigger commotion, with Hermione and Ron tagging after him worriedly, asking him if he was alright. For once, Harry felt light-hearted enough to grin back comfortingly at them and assure them that he was alright.

Harry felt relieved that at least some people in this school did not treat him like a bleeding war-hero, and he was grateful to Malfoy for it, though he did not ever voice it out, for he did not want Malfoy to think that Harry was. Sworn Enemies did not tell each other that they were grateful for anything; at least not between Harry and Malfoy.

In Harry's ideal Moderate world, Harry hated/loathed Malfoy and vice versa. Malfoy was an annoying git who simply had no life, and it had seemed as if his sole purpose of living was to make Harry's life as miserable as possible.

In Harry's ideal Moderate world, Malfoy, did not cry; At least not in front of Harry, his worst enemy.

That was why, when Harry found Malfoy sitting silently at the edge of the lake on his daily morning stroll around the lake, and moved closer out of curiosity, he was shocked - no, stunned - to find Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, Son of Voldemort's Greatest Supporter, on the verge of tears.

It might just be Harry's own opinion, but he had always harbored the notion that Malfoys did not cry - much less in front of their worst enemy. He imagined that the Malfoys would view crying as a sign of weakness, and seeing that he had never seen Draco Malfoy as much as shed a tear during his past seven years at Hogwarts, Harry was positive that his theory held.

He was in half mind to walk away and pretend that he didn't see anything, but he was also intrigued to know what had caused Malfoy to finally shed the first tear Harry had ever seen. However, before Harry could come up with a decision -

'Shit, Potter, quit standing there and staring at me. It's unnerving, you know.' Harry jumped slightly and flushed in embarrassment. He was sure that he had been quiet...

Harry gathered his flailing wits and said the most intelligent thing he could think of.

'Huh?'

He noticed Malfoy's shoulders rise up and settle down in a slouch as he sighed in exasperation. With a maybe too extravagant flick of his head, he was determined not to meet Harry's gaze behind him and looked out towards the horizon in front of him.

'Go away Potter, before I decide to hex you.'

Harry blinked and immediately set his face to a frown. Tears, he could not handle (especially when it came from Malfoy), but anger, he could.

'I would like to see you try, Malfoy. What are you doing up so early, anyway? Trying to plot some evil plan to conquer the whole of Hogwarts?'

Malfoy finally turned to look at him, but instead of anger on his face, there was a look of exasperation. Harry saw that his eyes were wet and frowned at it.

'That was really weak, Potter; plot an evil plan to conquer the whole of Hogwarts? Are you daft? Oh wait. You are daft. I forgot, sorry.' Harry noted with a slight flush of embarrassment that Malfoy did not sound very apologetic. Before Harry could think of a retort, Malfoy's exasperation turned to weariness and he turned away to face the Lake again quickly.

'Look, Potter. I'm really not in the mood to bicker with you now, so I would really appreciate it if you just turn around and walk away like you have never seen anything.'

Harry's frown deepened. Something must be terribly wrong for Malfoy to step down from a fight like that. He flung caution to the wind and carefully sat himself down beside Malfoy. Malfoy's gaze flew to Harry's in surprise and confusion.

'What the hell, Potter? I thought I told you to sod off! And to think that I said it nicely to you-'

'Are you alright, Malfoy?' Harry asked quietly, keeping his gaze to the ground. He felt Malfoy stiffen beside him.

'I'm fine, Potter. Now sod off and leave me alone.' Malfoy tersely spat out. Harry finally looked up from the ground and directly into Malfoy's eyes. He cocked his head to the side, intrigued.

'You don't seem fine to me.' Malfoy scowled at him and quickly swiped off the moisture that had gathered around his eyes.

'For the third and final time, Potter, I'm fine. So please, spare me of your dreadful presence and leave me alone.'

Harry didn't move. Malfoy groaned and covered his face with his palms. 'This cannot be happening to me. I am going to wake up now, and find myself in my bed, and then scowl at myself for dreaming about Potter sitting beside me in the early morning asking me if I am fine.' Malfoy removed his hand from his face slowly and when he saw Harry still beside him and staring, his face crumpled into a look of pure agony and he slouched in defeat.

'I'm not dreaming. I am sitting with Harry Potter early in the morning beside the Lake and he is asking me if I am fine.' Malfoy looked up into the sky that was slowly lighting up with hues of blues. 'I am going crazy.' Malfoy proclaimed dejectedly.

Harry fought the urge to laugh and he bit his lip, and thought that he himself was going crazy. What was he doing sitting beside Malfoy, concerned that Malfoy was about to break down and cry, and on the verge of laughter?

'You know...if you need to cry, its okay.'

What happened to Harry's moderation?

Malfoy's heated gaze snapped up and met with Harry's. 'What gave you the idea that I wanted to cry? Seriously Potter, you're putting romantic notions into your head. Crying is for weaklings and Malfoys do not cry.' Then as an after thought, he added, 'At least not in public anyway.'

Harry suppressed a triumphant grin. He was right! He knew it!

'But Malfoys are human too. And humans cry when they need to, and from watching you, you look like you really need to cry.' Harry wondered briefly what he was doing giving advice on crying to his sworn enemy who have made him want to cry himself countless of times.

When Malfoy did not make a reply after awhile, Harry looked up and found Malfoy staring at him incredulously.

"What the hell are you doing, Potter, giving me advice on how to cry? And what the hell are you doing here, sitting beside me? What the hell do you want?'

Harry as silent for a moment as he thought over Malfoy's question, and he looked back up to Malfoy.

'I have no idea. I'm just too free, I guess.'

Harry didn't want to admit that for some reason, Harry felt more comfortable than normal to sit beside Draco Malfoy, even if he were his sworn enemy.

'Well then, if you're not going, then I am. See you around, Potter.' Malfoy snapped with irritation at its peak. He made to stand up but then was pulled back down to his seat again when Harry tugged strongly at his robes.

'What the - Potter! What is up with you?' Malfoy exclaimed. He made to stand again. But Potter refused to let go of his robes. 'Potter,' he tried again, 'I know that you love my company, but I have to get back to my dormitory before I miss breakfast and I have no intention of being late for lessons, so please let go. I have no idea what the hell is up with you, but my day is bad enough already so LET GO AND LEAVE ME ALONE.'

Harry abruptly let go of Malfoy's robes in shock. But before he could think further, he watched with silent apprehension as Malfoy slipped and fell into the lake.

'Malfoy!' He cried as soon as he snapped out of his surprise. Just then, there was a ripple in the water and a great splash as Malfoy resurfaced from the bottom of the lake, wet and trembling. Harry briefly wondered if it was rage or just because he was cold, when Malfoy, still half in the water, grabbed the edge of the bank and turned his face away from Harry as his breathing became shallow. Harry heard him murmur a soft curse that sounded shaky.

Malfoy was crying.

Numb with shock, Harry was stunned for a moment. He never expected Malfoy to actually take him up on the offer and really start to cry. Without thinking, he reached down into the lake and gripped Malfoy's hand.

It was cold and trembling.

He started to pull Malfoy out of the water, but he was having difficulty. Malfoy, despite his small built, did not exactly weigh very little, and adding to the fact that Malfoy's wet robes were dragging him down, Harry almost tumbled into the water himself.

'Look, Malfoy. Could you at least try to pull yourself up before you die of hypothermia there? You're not exactly as light as you like to think you are, and having your robes drenched is not helping matters.'

Malfoy made no move to assist Harry in pulling himself up.

Harry sighed in exasperation. He just knew it. Malfoy was sent by the heavens above to make his life hell. And here he was thinking that Voldermot was enough. He had to deal with a bawling Malfoy, as well.

Harry summoned all his strength, and with one great tug, he pulled Malfoy out of the water and dragged him away from the lake to a patch of dry grass. He let go of Malfoy and collapsed onto the grass himself to catch his breath. He glanced at Malfoy, who was lying on his back, watching him fling a soggy arm across his eyes, attempting to hide the tears that were escaping freely from his eyes.

Any anger and irritation Harry had for Malfoy then, dissipated. Harry crawled over to Malfoy and kneeled down beside him.

'Hey Malfoy...are you alright?' Harry noted absently that it was not the first time he was asking him that question, and shrugged it off. When Malfoy did not make to reply, Harry sighed and after making sure that Malfoy was not going to start rolling into the lake again, he turned to face the water and watched as the risen sun made the water sparkle silver. Again, he was reminded of Malfoy's hair.

There was a period of awkward silence between them for a few minutes, only broken by Malfoy's ragged breath as he cried.

'I've tried to hold in my tears before, too,' Harry said, breaking the silence between them, and masking his own helplessness of the situation by comforting himself with the sound of his own voice. Besides, it masked Malfoy's sobs.

'It feels as if like you are about to sneeze - no, more like when you have to go to the bathroom really badly, and you try to hold it in, but you just can't. Dudley once tried to do that - he's my Uncle Vernon's son, by the way. Uncle Vernon told us to go to the bathroom at the rest stop as there would be none for quite awhile, but Dudley just refused to go. A few minutes later after we left the rest stop, Dudley suddenly said that he had to go really badly, but there were no rest stops for another hour. Dudley couldn't hold it in and Uncle Vernon had to turn back to the first rest stop to clean the car up. I was made to do it, though, and it was really nasty.' Harry searched his mind for something else to say, and bit his lips nervously. He glanced edgily at Malfoy and seeing that he had stopped sobbing, Harry sighed in relief.

'Are you okay?'

Just when Harry thought that Malfoy was not going to answer him and that he had fallen asleep, he cleared his throat.

'Yeah,' he murmured hoarsely.

Harry looked away as Malfoy tried to dry his eyes with the back of his palm, and heard him take a shuddering breath, and let it out. Comfortable silence fell between the two sworn enemies as Malfoy collected himself. Harry looked out into the horizon and let out a small breath of confusion. He ran his hand through his already-messy hair and wondered again what he was doing comforting his sworn enemy as he cried. Just then, Drac- Malfoy sat up beside Harry and looked at the horizon with Harry.

'Thanks, for just now,' Malfoy murmured softly, voice still hoarse. Harry blinked, uncomfortable to having the man whom had tormented him for the past 7 years of his life thanking him sincerely.

'You're welcome, I think,' Harry mumbled, cheeks tingeing with a soft pink.

'I apologize for falling apart just now. It was uncalled for.' Draco turned to glare at Harry, though it didn't really work as his eyes were still red from crying and he looked absolutely disheveled. 'If you even breathe a word of what just happened I will hex you so badly that you won't be able to remember who the hell you are ever again, Harry.'

Draco Malfoy apologizing and thanking Harry all in one day; this was too much for Harry, and it was still only morning.

'You know I won't Draco. This will be between us. I swear.'

'Good.' Both of them realized at the same time that they have just addressed each other by their names.

'I mean, Malfoy,' Harry fumbled.

'Of course, Potter.'

They were both determined not to look at each other, both wondering what the hell just happened. Both Draco and Harry tried to calm the furious blush that had crept upon their cheeks, totally uncalled for.

'We should be heading back soon. I think we've just completely missed breakfast.'

'It's Sunday, Malfoy, if you haven't realized; breakfast starts later than usual.'

'Why didn't you say so earlier? And here I was, worrying that I'll be missing my first lesson.'

'You didn't ask.'

Silence fell between them again.

'This means nothing, you know.' Draco stuttered. 'I mean, I still hate that Weasel, I still hate that Mudblood, and I still hate you.'

'Don't call Hermione that,' Harry mumbled absently, too caught up in his own thoughts to care. 'It's not very nice.'

'Since when did I care about whether what I said was nice or not?'

Harry thought for a moment, and smiled slightly.

'You're right. But still, it's not nice.'

He glanced at Draco just in time to see him roll his eyes.

'Whatever.'

The silence between them grew so comfortable, that even when Draco suddenly shifted closer to Harry and laid his head on the boy's shoulder, Harry said nothing to disturb the rare peace that overcame them. Instead, he laid his own head over Draco, and the two boys sat in comfortable silence until they realized that they had really completely missed breakfast.

Harry never found out the reason as to why Draco was doing at the lake that early in the morning and crying.

On Monday morning, Harry woke up and dressed with a certain anticipation fluttering in his stomach. It felt foreign and so queer, but Harry could not help but look forward to his daily walk around the lake. Not that he was looking forward to seeing if Drac- Malfoy was also there, but only to...only to....

Harry scowled at his reflection in the mirror. Why would Dra- MALFOY be there? That irritating git had no reason to.

'Why the ugly scowl, dear boy? It's a beautiful morning!' chided the mirror. Harry's scowl deepened.

'Sod off.' Harry stormed out of the dormitory and out of the Gryffindor Tower in silent fury.

As he crossed the Hogwarts ground to get to the lake, he silently berated himself. Don't be stupid, Harry. Dra- MALFOY (Dammit) won't be there! Stop mooning over him and GET OVER YOURSELF-

Harry looked up towards the lake and saw a figure in black robes sitting serenely beside the lake. Harry's heart skipped a beat when the first rays of the rising run hit the figure and made his hair shine a slivery blond.

'Malfoy...' Harry breathed. His pace quickened and when he reached Malfoy, he plopped himself down beside him and stared at the boy.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he demanded. Malfoy turned and watched Harry with a raised eyebrow and a smirk that Harry hated.

'I have no idea. I'm just too free, I guess.'

Harry blinked when a wave of familiarity washed over him, and then let out a soft chuckle. He had just had his own words thrown back at himself. Draco had asked Harry the same question and Harry had thrown back exactly the same answer as Draco had just given him.

'Right, stupid question I guess.' Harry sighed with certain contentment that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He smiled at Draco, noting absently that something had changed between them. He didn't know what, but he knew that he liked it.

'Oi, Potty.'

Alright, maybe not much had changed between them. Draco still was as rude and incorrigible as ever.

'I still hate you, you know? You and your adoring friends,' Draco spat.

'And I still hate you and your irritating Slytherins.' Harry shot back

They looked at each other and their scowls turned quickly into grins.

Harry's moderate daily routine was now deemed unpredictable, with the addition of a certain blond haired Slytherin whom constantly tried to make his life hell as much as possible. But somehow, Harry didn't mind it; not very much, at least.