In Your Mind's Eye.

Chapter Two.

(Disclaimer: this story and its characters belong to J.K.Rowling.)

Song: Ain't No Rest For The Wicked by Cage the Elephant.

He wasn't sure, Draco thought dejectedly as he trudged out of his common room, that potions would be better without Snape. He had had mixed feelings about the teacher, but now that he was gone... well, what would potions be without the constant bullying of Potter? That was the main joy of it all, watching his neck slowly turn red, watch him struggle to contain his anger.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. After everything that had happened, was his outlook on the mistreatment of others still so despicable? Yes, it seemed. Draco was half disgusted with himself; his constant mood changes were hitting him as if he was a hormonal teenage girl.

Late for the lesson, Draco paused outside the door, thinking. This room would be full of old faces. Most of those, Slytherins, who would turn into hunting dogs the moment he took a step out of line.

He wasn't even sure what his own house thought of him anymore. He was a traitor, despite which side each person joined in the war; traitor to Hogwarts, and to the Death Eaters.

Draco bit his lip. He had promised to himself that he'd be honest, if anything. After all the secrets he had had, could he even be honest and open? He wasn't doing a good job of it so far.

He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, narrowed his eyes in determination, and pushed open the door.

The entire class turned and looked around at him, while he stood there, swallowing back the sudden fear that rose in a bubble from his chest.

"Mr Malfoy, I presume?" said a weak voice from the front of room, and he looked up to see a wispy woman in her 50s, who looked absolutely terrified, and was staring, just as everyone else was, at his arms.

Draco almost blanched, and half considered turning around and walking back out again. This is absolutely fucking fantastic, he thought bitterly, everyone hates me and they're scared of me.

"Yes." He said shortly without paying any attention to his fellow pupils, then as an after thought he added, "Sorry I'm late. Uh. Professor...?"

Draco had half been expecting Slughorn. He hardly remembered a thing about the old potions master. After the lack of attention he received from the man, he had become disinterested. Besides, he had had more pressing matters on his mind that year.

The woman blinked, cautiously, looking a bit like a slow, wrinkly turtle, and mumbled,
"Professor Schmollebeck."

"Right." Slowly, Draco glanced around the class, and slid into the only empty seat at the back. He noticed, for no reason in particular, that all the chairs around Potter had been full up. What a surprise. Everyone wants a chance to bask in his presence. Potter, however, was staring at him, fists clenching on the table in front of him. Weasley threw Draco a look of hatred and leaned forward to whisper something to his friend, frowning.

Draco smirked slightly at this, and turned back to the front, resting his chin on his hand, and watching as Professor Schmollebeck pulled herself together to continue.

Several Slytherins tried to catch his eye, a curious expression mirrored in each of their faces. He found this strange, as he'd been left alone completely when sitting in the Slytherin common room. But, he guessed, that was Slytherins for you. They only showed interest if they thought it was worth it. Obviously walking into class with such openness and confidence had made a few change their minds about leaving him in his solitude.

~

Harry had been feeling dizzy again. There were faces all around him, pressing in on him, suffocating him. Even Ron and Hermione had done little to help, noticing his pale complexion, huddling around him and asking him questions, but he didn't think it would be safe to open his mouth. He didn't want to lose the little breakfast he had managed to eat, so he just nodded and shook his head in response.

And then in walked Draco Malfoy.

Harry hadn't noticed before, but the Slytherin boy had grown quite a bit taller over the summer. All of his limbs looked suddenly quite elegant slender fingers that were drumming against long legs, and muscular arms.

But even when Malfoy had sat down, Harry was still staring at his arms, curious. There was the Dark Mark on his left arm, yes. But now it was joined by other tattoos; swirling ones with intricate words that twisted up both forearms and were just visible curling around his neck. It looked almost as if he'd printed a story on his skin. So that was why Draco had pulled his sleeves down earlier.

Harry couldn't seem to look away from him. He didn't trust this. It was one thing, Malfoy being at Hogwarts, but now- was that the vague hint of manners he had heard when the boy was talking to the new potions teacher?

Noticing Draco's emotionless gaze on him, Harry flushed slightly, and clenched his fists.

Noticing Harry's expression, Ron glared at Malfoy, and then said quietly to him,
"Don't worry about it, mate. He's a prick, but you have to ignore him. It's our last year."

Harry just nodded. Now Draco was smirking. It infuriated him so much that he had half a mind to get up and walk out of the classroom. But instead, he turned away, and listened to Dean and Seamus' conversation in front of him as they discussed Quidditch teams.

~

When the lesson ended, the witches and wizards filed out of the door. Draco noticed that nearly all of them gave him a wide berth, and grit his teeth, the beginnings of anger (either with himself or with them) stirring in his chest. Would he really have to be lonely the whole of his time here?

It wasn't exactly the best time to bump into Ron Weasley as he, Harry and Hermione walked past.

"Watch it, Weasley." Draco snapped, eyes narrowing.

"Shut it, Malfoy " Weasley replied, temper seeming to magically appear as soon as he saw who it was.

"Very mature." Draco was growling back before he could stop himself, flaring up at once.

Weasley rounded on him with a fierce glare, looking as if he was about to punch him.
"This is just a warning, keep away from us this year. You've had your time messing us around. Now leave us alone."

"After all that's happened, you really think this is important?" This felt like they were first years again, except, Draco sighs, this time he had absolutely no back up. Crabbe was dead, Goyle hadn't come back to Hogwarts this year. Fuck. If he got beaten up on his first day, he'd throw himself in the lake. "Why would I want to be near him in the first place?" Draco continued, "Because of him, my father's in jail and my whole life is basically ruined."

That's not exactly true, he thought to himself, watching with interest as Harry flinched at that comment.

"Right. I forgot, you'd prefer You-Know-Who to have won the war." Weasley spat, "Poor you, no friends to help you bully. You'd think you'd have lost some of your dignity, but you're still the same."

"Ron-" Hermione began soothingly, touching his arm, but Weasley pushed her away.

"No. I don't even understand why he's here. You know, if it wasn't for you, if you didn't kill Dumbledore, none of this would have happened." Weasley snarled, and Draco felt a shiver of horror run through him, "My brother wouldn't have been killed!"

Harry looked like he was about to be sick.

"I-I," for the first time, Draco found himself speechless. He knew. He knew Weasley was just angry, just bitter with loss, but it hurt. It ached in his chest horribly. He tried his best not to let it show on his face; there were still a few Slytherins hanging around, "I didn't kill Dumbledore. Snape did."

"You might as well have." Ron gritted his teeth, but Potter shook his head, frowning.

"Ron, leave it. He's a Death Eater. He doesn't care what you say."

Draco wasn't sure what had happened, because his vision had instantly gone a horrible blinding white, but in a few seconds he had Harry pinned against the wall, hands curled in the boy's robes, fury racing through his veins like wild fire. "Don't." He choked out, suddenly not giving a damn about what the rest of his house thought. His heart was pounding against his chest in a sickening rush of adrenaline. "Don't call me that. Don't presume anything about me.

Harry was staring at him with those big green eyes, breathless with shock, wand in his hand. But Draco was already being dragged off him by shouting teachers, and marched along the corridor.