Draco growled in annoyance as he ripped the letter from his owl's beak throwing it into his desk on top of the growing pile of letters. He didn't spare the flimsy paper a second glance and therefore missed the pinkish tone the letter had taken on from the bloody water it had been dropped into almost an hour before. He slammed the drawer shut and frowned heavily annoyed at the very out-of-character actions Harry Potter had taken against him.
Draco knew he was not kind to the boy and yet every time Harry looked at him his green eyes lit up with excitement before dulling down to their normal hue. Every time he hit the boy the school year before, instead of Harry getting angry or scared the boy just looked up at Draco as if to ask "Do you feel better now? Was I good?"
Draco hated the approval that Harry seemed to be searching for. He hated the squirm of guilt that formed in his stomach when Harry's eyes moistened at his glare and how Harry's head dropped in disappointment at the sight of Draco's anger. The odd thing though was that Harry never flinched. Draco sat down staring at his reflection in his window with a frown. Harry never cowered, nor let out a single whimper with any strike made against him. One time Draco had even, out of anger at the boy's silence, cast a bone-break hex on the raven-haired child, and yet still Harry had not even let out a gasp as if he was used to having his bones broken.
The more Draco thought about it the odder Harry Potter became to him. He thought back to when he and Harry were facing Professor Quirell. Harry had willingly thrown himself in front of Draco. He had shown no fear as he confronted the teacher. Had shown no weakness at dragging Draco down the hallway even with his own weakness. He had told Draco to run and the blonde boy had for once in his life obeyed a direct order.
Visions of that night flew in front of Draco's silver eyes like taunts from his subconscious. Harry shrugging and holding his hands out to show that he held no wand. Harry standing barefoot in the cold dungeon corridor. Harry appearing out of nowhere like an angel when all of Draco's hope had left him. Harry yelling at Quirrell to let him go. Harry grabbing Draco's arm tightly, protectively, and dragging him away. Harry pushing him up the stairs and telling him to run. The sight of Harry clutching his head and falling to the ground from over the side of the stairs Draco was slowly climbing. The sound of Voldemort's voice.
Draco paused in his reflections and thought that sentence again. The sound of Voldemort's voice.
Suddenly Draco was pulled back into that moment like water being sucked into a syringe. He stood panting on the staircase, struggling to pull himself up towards the floor of his Headmaster's office. The echoes of the conversation below echoing off the walls for him to hear over his own pain-filled panting.
"With me Harry," Voldemort said softly "You will be safe; With me, you will never return to be a slave to the muggles,"
"How did you-?" Harry asked.
"I can see your pain, Harry Potter. Orphaned as an infant and left on your aunt's door like a newspaper." Voldemort tutted softly "I know, my boy. I know how they hurt you and yet no one cares. Newt Scamander took you in and yet Dumbledore wants to send you back,"
Draco gasped painfully as he returned to his seat in front of his desk, falling back into his body from wherever he had gone. That one sentence repeating in his mind.
"Newt Scamander took you in, and yet Dumbledore wants to send you back"
