if i was invisible [OPEN TO ANY]

[Harry Potter]

date: 02 september 2005
time: just before dinner
location: corridor outside of the Great Hall

It was always interesting what one could see when they kept their eyes open and mouth shut. Being invisible didn't hurt, either.

From his perch in one of the window alcoves of the castle beneath his Invisibility Cloak, Harry gazed at the students scurrying by obliviously on their way from dinner. This was his favourite time to watch the denizens of the school go about their business: when they were relaxed away from classes, led by hunger or friendship. Alternatively, the avoidant ones who shied away from the dreaded, noisy, chaotic crowds, arriving early to nab an antisocial seat or late to spend as little time in the Great Hall as possible.

Hermione, for instance. Hermione often walked to dinner alone, whether it was because she didn't precisely chit-chat with very many of their peers or whether it was the giant book her nose would inevitably be stuck in being off-putting to other fifteen year olds who couldn't understand why someone would favour books over bread. It was impressive how she could weave around other kids, even ones short enough that she logically shouldn't be able to even see that they were there.

Unless they were coming from separate plans, quiet little Longbottom, firecracker Finnigan and the wonky Loony Lovegood generally went to dinner together, despite parting ways at the door to their separate tables. He thought he recalled her sometimes joining them at Gryffindor instead, but he didn't generally pay much attention to the other houses. (Healthy 15 year old boys given a table full of food were going to focus on the feast, after all.) Longbottom was an enigma himself; how that nerdy, insecure kid could have defeated the Dark Lord as a baby was strange as it was, but the idea of leaving the fate of the wizarding world to him worried Harry. For one thing, he was just a kid, and such an awkward one at that. For another... really? What was he going to accomplish? What had he even tried to accomplish? If it had been Harry, he'd be seeking revenge for his parents from day one. He'd stop at nothing to purge the world of an evil Dark wizard, and he'd be preparing himself for that eventual battle... but some people were content to remain in their own little worlds, it seemed.

And Malfoy... there was always Malfoy. Malfoy, with his entourage of minions, who still sometimes struck out alone. These were the moments Harry liked most: when Malfoy wasn't flocked by brainlessly devoted Slytherins, strutting smugly down the hall. When he could just watch him quietly and try to figure out what was ever going on in his housemate's pale, pointy little head.

Harry was distracted by thoughts of Malfoy by the sound of footsteps. While footsteps were nothing to get concerned about, these were coming closer - as if somebody meant to come to the very ledge he occupied, hidden from anyone's prying eyes. (Well, he sometimes had the suspicion Dumbledore could somehow see through the Cloak, but he was just odd that way.) Cursing silently, he scrambled to hurry out of the way before turning to see who the too-close encounter was with.

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco grumbled heading through the halls to dinner. There were still people trickling through the halls. He stopped to glance through one of the windows into the grounds below with a sigh. No one was out. Most students were in the great hall by now, eating. Draco had dismissed the rest of his group to go there as well. He needed time alone, to think. He promised himself only a few minutes. A few minutes then he would go join those mindless groupies.

He sat on one of the benches across from the window. A lot was on his mind. Auntie Bella was back at home and had been most of the summer, teaching him. Horrible things it was that she wanted to show him, yelling at him to get it right all the time. It had terrified him even remembering. But he couldn't show that right now. Couldn't show anything. He schooled his face into an uninterested almost scowl.

Back at school also meant back to dealing with annoying sods like Potter as well. He hadn't exchanged words with the git yet, bu wasn't looking forward to that. How the boy had gotten into Slytherin still eluded him. Sometimes he showed what it took, but barely.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. Things only got more complicated with each year and considering Draco's luck it would get even worse than usual. Already there were whispers of the dark lord returning, death eaters gathering. And his father... his father could be in trouble. His entire family. Fear flickered through his mind and probably showed on his face before he remembered he couldn't show it. Not here in the corridor, not anywhere.

[Harry Potter]

Well... speak of the devil.

Part of Harry felt guilty to be watching Malfoy. The action in and of itself wasn't unusual, since it could be argued that he'd always watched Malfoy (albeit generally with suspicion or wariness). But those were times they could glare at each other and there was really little to no secrecy involved. Malfoy was, in fact, a large part of the reason why being in Slytherin was still annoying after so many years. Only a few members of the house were his actual groupies, of course (or as Harry called them in his head, his minions), but he was still the quintessential Slytherin while Harry was the black sheep, and the animosity between them certainly hadn't helped him fit in.

But no matter. He had friends in other houses, so who cared if things were a little rougher in his own?

Watching him from beneath an invisibility cloak, however, was different. Even though Harry watched everyone under the cloak, the fact that this was Malfoy, and he was looking strained in a way Harry couldn't ever remember him looking, made it different. They didn't exactly have the sort of relationship where Harry could pull off the cloak and go, "Hey, mate, what's up?" - or the sort of relationship where Harry should care at all, really - but... well, he was still his housemate, and they'd still gone to school together and lived side by side since they were eleven.

He watched the emotions play over the blond's face before disappearing, simultaneously concerned and intrigued. What had made the git drop his guard like that in a public space, even if it was only for a moment? What actually had the arrogant prick worried? Probably his first pimple, he thought cynically, even though he knew the boy probably wasn't actually that shallow, and even though his gut told him the problem was likely something far greater.

But it was really none of his business. Shaking his head to remind himself of that, he turned away - and hit his head straight away on the flat of an axe carried by a suit of armour. Wincing at the loud clattering sound as he instinctively ducked away, he dodged toward the doors to the Great Hall just in case Malfoy was paranoid enough to hex-now-ask-questions-later.

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco's head shot up at the noise, glaring towards the suit which had been bumped, the axe on the ground. Probably some first year threw a hex at it, or ran into it and scurried away. He chuckled at the thought of that. Stupid people not watching where they were going, or heaven forbid, trying to walk through things. He had seen his fair share of people stuck halfway through objects. Idiots, all of them.

He glanced around the corridor no less. What is someone had noticed him. He didn't exactly blend in with his bright, pale blond hair. It didn't look like anyone was around, no doubt everyone in the hall already, including whoever made that noise. He sighed and got up from the bench. Better get there now, heaven forbid he had to sit near Potter. It would ruin his meal.

When he entered the hall he didn't see said housemate yet, and there was plenty of room at the table. A relief. He joined the rest of his group who had been there a while now, judging by the fact Goyle had actually lowed down in his eating. It was all just idle chat, boring, almost mindless. Times like these Draco almost wished he had some Ravenclaw to talk with about potions, or defense against the dark arts, not Pansy's female problems or the quarrel over which family's autumn ball was going to be best.

[Harry Potter]

Keeping very, very still as Malfoy looked around, Harry let out a sigh of relief when he dismissed the noise. The chuckle had been strange - what on earth was ever going through Malfoy's mind? He would have been instantly up in arms at a sudden, unexplained noise - but better than being hexed. Maybe he just wasn't the curious sort. Still, a snicker was better on him than the flash of whatever-it-was, fear or uncertainty or what have you, so that was still good. Not that he cared, of course. He just wasn't a sadistic human being, that was all. Really. There was no need to entertain any notions of cornering him and asking if he was okay, or any other such ridiculous behaviour. No doubt it wouldn't be well-received anyway.

Ducking to the side when Malfoy approached the doors, he watched him disappear into the Great Hall. He waited for a good half minute or so, mentally tracking the blond's tracks across the room to his seat, before moving. Making sure nobody else was in the hall, he slipped behind the stairs to pull off the cloak and fight it safely back into his bag. Not his bookbag, Merlin forbid, but the mokeskin pouch tied around his waist, securely woven through his belt loops to prevent accidentally falling off. Adjusting his robe so it fully covered the bag, then hanging his normal bag over it, he looked around again paranoidly, then entered the Hall.

Nodding hellos to a few of his friends as he made his way through the tables, he took up a spot across but several seats safely away from the blond, not giving him anything more than his usual warily distant look. He doubted he'd prove very interesting again with his usual entourage clustered around him, but they ate at the same table anyway so it was generally best to keep him within hearing range. Not that his boasting wasn't loud enough to attract the notice of anybody with half-functioning ears...

Pulling out a supplementary DADA book the professor had suggested to those who were interested, he flipped through to where he'd left off and began reading as he ate. It was the one subject Hermione never had to nag him to study, especially as his interest in the topic tended to border on obsession. Then again, that was how it was with anything he liked.

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco cast his usual glare in Harry's direction when the other sat down. He didn't fail to notice the book, one he himself had also acquired (with help from his father) after it had been suggested. With all of Bella's teaching he felt like some of the school work was a tad easy. He knew Harry was rather skilled at the subject and sometimes though if not for their seemingly unending feud. Even Draco was beginning to find it childish, but he wouldn't back down.

The conversation about parties continued before Pansy excused herself, followed by Blaise until only Crabbe and Goyle remained. Attempting conversation with them did almost as much as talking to a all did.

Draco had barely eaten what could be considered a healthy meal, but he appetite had apparently abandoned him and he didn't care to waste his time sitting around. He said his goodbye to the two 'minions' who barely acknowledged it with grunts. He left the hall quickly, set on a walk to clear his mind. He still had time before curfew, so he headed down to the main courtyard. He was constantly glancing back to see that he wasn't followed.

[Harry Potter]

Now, that was weird. Sure, Malfoy was awfully thin, but Harry didn't remember his appetite being that bad. He was still a teenaged boy, after all.

It was a testament to his strong urge to follow the blond that Harry had to remind himself very firmly that he was not a stalker, and he would not be creepy - creepier than watching people when they couldn't see him already was - and he did not actually care what Malfoy was up to. For all he knew, it was some sort of scandalous secret liaison that was stressing him out, and then he really didn't want or need to know. But then again... he could be doing something horrible for his father. That would explain the uncharacteristic stress.

Harry made himself wait for a good ten minutes - long enough to scarf the rest of his repast with typical teenaged gusto - before letting his restlessness and curiosity get the best of him. It was unlikely he'd find Malfoy again now, but he was definitely too distracted to linger in the Great Hall for no reason. He hadn't been sitting with one of his friends to kill time and the book could wait.

Rising nonchalantly from his seat, he tucked his book away and headed out. Now, where to - the Owlery? The dungeons? An empty classroom or tower? The Forbidden Forest? The library...? Most of those would be too strange for Harry to go about poking his nose into... the corridors would be relatively empty so maybe Malfoy was just patrolling the castle. But it hadn't looked like he'd want to run into anyone, and he certainly hadn't been behaving in a chatty, social manner at dinnertime. Outdoors, then. Taking a tip from Hermione, he pulled out his book again as he began to walk, ambling in the direction of the courtyard.

[Draco Malfoy]

Once he had made it to the yard Draco had taken to a perch by the west wall, sitting on the ledge. He had been right in guessing that not many people would be out, probably because it was a little chilly. He pulled his robe and held it tight against himself to trap heat. It surprised even him a little how much weight he had shed over the summer. All of his shirts and pants his rather loosely and he noted that he would have to put on more weight to be well enough to play quidditch properly. If only he could stop feeling nauseous with worry from long enough to hold down a descent meal.

With a sigh he put his hand into his robes, pulling out the small book and charcoal pencil from the pocket he had fixed into the liner. As he opened it he flipped through pages filled with halfhearted doodles and little notes. I was the one way to keep his mind busy.

He put the pencil to the paper and began drawing celtic knot patterns among the rest of it. He focused on that completely, not wanting to worry about whether anyone was around or watching. Even if they were, they weren't worth his time. He was already making a short list of what he had to do tomorrow. Star the reading, that paper as well, try to eat a proper meal, ask father to send that ingredient. With all of that on his mind it was easier to relax. No time to remember. He may have even smiled a bit at the hope that maybe mother would send sweets like she usually did.

Draco didn't keep track of time, or people passing. He had absently noticed one person, but it had been a while since that and no one had disturbed him yet. Hopefully it would stay that way because he didn't want to deal with anyone. Especially not Potter who's name he had apparently decided to start doodling. He growled, scratching that out as best he could before skipping a few pages and starting again with his celtic knots and other intricate and delicate looking designs.

[Harry Potter]

As Draco doodled and zoned out on the world, Harry took the long way around to the courtyard. Upon arriving, he walked along one of arched, open walkways before stepping out into the main of the courtyard itself. He'd spotted the blond instantly, of course, having fine-tuned his Dradar over the years, and frowned to see him hunched over some sort of book. Was he really studying instead of eating? The idiot.

Casting a Softfooting Spell on his shoes to muffle the sound of his approach, he cautiously made his way over to Draco from behind. He was just a stone's throw away when the blond angrily scratched something out flipped the pages and Harry paused, scratching his head thoughtfully. Maybe I should leave him alone, he thought... then decided that was the obvious route, given Malfoy was Malfoy and he was him. The obvious route had always worked for them in the past, but Malfoy's change in demeanor actually concerned him enough to want to... well, stalk him out here and say something. Something non-antagonistic, anyway, as much fun as it always was to provoke the blond. The spoiled brat was prickly enough on a good day, so if he was being moody it definitely deserved a Handle with Caution.

"What did that book ever do to you?" he spoke up, announcing himself only an instant before hopping up onto the perch to his housemate's right, his legs dangling down the opposite side of the ledge. His book from dinner was held casually in his left hand to give him the excuse of looking for a place to read, and he watched Draco with an unreadable look, intensely vivid gaze focused solely on him as he took in the telltale signs of weight loss. Draco had always been thin and angular even when healthy, so either puberty was making his pointy features even sharper or he wasn't eating enough to keep up with his growth; considering how quickly he'd left dinner and how little he ate, Harry was willing to bet his broom it was the latter. But it wasn't as though he could just say, "Hey, mate, all right? Want to tell me about it?" That was too forward, even for him. "Don't tell me you're joining the latest diet fad. It'll wreak havoc on your Seeking, you know."

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco sat up more and snapped the book shut as he heard Harry's words. He hadn't see what it was he was scratching out... had he? The was he was looking at him made him want to crawl out of his skin and leave it behind just to get away. When the comment about dieting came soon after he fixed his face to be unreadable just like the other's. He should have known the observant git would notice something. His minions were just as oblivious as ever, but Harry bleeding Potter notices. It was like the other was stalking him.

"I'll have you know, I don't join 'fads'. You're nosy as ever, Potter. Some people might think a bit too nosy. You keep track of everyone on the team like this." He accused. "I don't need lectures from you about my seeking skills. Remind me again who it is that got the position again this year." he pointed out. He put the book back into the pocket on the inside of his robes.

"If you keep it up like this, people might think you've become another one of my fans, Potter. Or worse, that you've developed a puppy dog crush. You know, that would look quite band on the both of us." Draco said, raising an eyebrow. As much as he wanted to confide in someone, he knew he couldn't. Especially not to Potter. The git knew too much already. He revised to be more careful about that.

"But just so you rest easy, I'll have you know that I'm perfectly fine." He added, tilting his head up in his usual snobbish manner.

[Harry Potter]

Harry was unsurprised at Draco closing the book abruptly; after all, if their roles were reversed, he would have done the same thing. There was no place for Draco Lucius Malfoy in his private, written thoughts, no matter where his eyes might occasionally wander...

"I have to keep track of the team. The rest of you are always cheating and getting us in trouble as it is,"[/b] he reminded, sticking to the safe topic. "And your Seeking 'skills' amount to a lot of dirty tricks. I could beat you if I wanted to," he couldn't help adding, half out of usual competitive habit and half because he believed it. It was true, he was generally annoyed with the rest of the team for how they were notorious for playing dirty, but Malfoy definitely got the brunt of his lectures. Then again, that was normal on or off the pitch.

The mention of a crush made Harry narrow his eyes. Did Malfoy always have to look for ulterior motives for everything? Yeah, okay, he sort of was stalking Malfoy, but it had been solely out of concern. He did not have a crush on the frustrating, cocky ponce, and the occasional incriminating dream meant nothing more than hormones getting carried away with him. "I wouldn't have a crush on you even if you were a girl," he drawled instead, opening up his book to idly flip through it without reading anything more than the chapter titles. "Although if you're worried how a bloke fancying you would reflect on you... does that mean you've got something to hide?"

He didn't, of course, actually think Malfoy would be interested in males. (And what would it mean if he did?) Still, he couldn't help but provoking him a bit. Habit was hard to break, and it was so easy to get under his skin sometimes. Merlin knew he got under Harry's often enough, and in more ways than he cared to admit. Even that snobby, smug little head tilt was frustratingly endearing, and his mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Insecurity's not terribly fetching, you know. If you want something, go for it. 'Use any means to achieve their ends', yeah?"

[Draco Malfoy]

"Since when does seeking even provide room for 'sneaky tricks'? Doesn't matter what I do to throw off the opponent, doesn't change whether or not I can see a damn snitch. I'm not taking some kind of potion to make me better or anything." Draco scowled. He knew that Harry was just as skilled, or maybe more so for the position than he was, and being insulted by him made him irritated. If the git wanted his position he should just bloody well take it already.

"Oh, I'm so wounded by your words. There are plenty of girls interested in me. None of them are good enough. And if a bloke takes a fancy to me, I don't bloody well care." Draco said. "And even if I do hide things, about anything, I'm not telling you of all people. You know the people of your own house, we're sneaky, we have secrets. It doesn't mean anything."

"And I'm not insecure. When I want things, I do get them. Everyone knows that." he pointed out. "You on the other hand. It's pathetic really. You must want something, but you never try. I often wonder how it is that hat figured you were anything like the rest of us." Draco said.

He knew that there were plenty of reasons that Harry was put in their house. He was in his own way cunning and ambitious, but in other ways he didn't fit at all. He wasn't a blood purist, he wasn't as rude as others. But... then again, for the most part his behavior was mostly an act. Not that he'd let anyone know that... ever.

[Harry Potter]

Rolling his eyes at Malfoy's instant defensiveness, Harry gave him a "cool it" nudge with his elbow before continuing to flip through the book in an idle fidget, not bothering to really read anything. "Are you or aren't you a proper Slytherin? You could cheat your way through a rigged set-up. Besides, even without taking potions, don't act like you haven't caused your fair share of fouls." Granted, Malfoy had a bit of a point; since being Seeker was such an independent role there were far fewer penalties for him to make, but interferences like colliding, elbowing, grabbing players and the like were fouls for anyone of any position. Even Harry flew using scare tactics sometimes - hey, if it worked, it worked - but he pulled out of them before they could make contact and cause the team any problems.

"In any case, you're wrong about one thing,"[/b] he continued. "I know we all - you all - have secrets, but they do mean something. Otherwise, why would they be secrets?" The fact that something wasn't deemed acceptable by one's immediate circle and had to be hidden was clearly indicative that it did actually matter. "I was just messing with you anyway... although how defensive you got is interesting." Pride... so much pride. Pride and Avarice were most definitely the two Deadly Sins most strongly associated with Slytherin house. Anger, maybe, for Gryffindor, with how up-in-arms and self-righteous they could get... Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were harder. Envy, perhaps, for Hufflepuffs; they never did get as much attention as the other houses. After all, they were pretty much the labouring class. Hardworking and loyal? What were they, House Elves? Slytherin was definitely the better house to be in. More power, more ambition, more style. And better-looking blokes, honestly, although some of those badgers... "I wonder what you could be so afraid of me finding out?"[/font]

Being called pathetic, on the other hand, invoked a bit of pride of his own, as did Malfoy challenging his Sorting. It wasn't as though he'd asked to be put into Slytherin, and he himself wondered sometimes how it had happened. He couldn't deny that he could be sneaky and was certainly ambitious, but he didn't fit the unofficial requirements of the house... and while he knew that not every Slytherin actually was a pureblood supremacist and all that rot - Daphne, for instance, although he certainly wasn't going to tell Malfoy about her - enough of them behaved like it that it counted. "Being a smug, selfish git isn't a requirement for being in Slytherin," he replied instead. "I know for a fact that some of you are decent people one-on-one, no matter what sort of show you like to put on. The house unity isn't bad, either, so long as it can be let go behind closed doors.

"But[/i] I don't know what you're talking about,"[/b] he continued. "I try for things I want if I want it enough." Like the Chaser position. Even if he didn't entirely like it all the time, and being a team player was a bit annoying, and he probably spent more time watching for the Snitch than the Quaffle than he should, it was what he'd chosen so he went for it. He wanted to be an Auror so he threw his attention into Defense Against the Dark Arts, and if a few other classes fell by the wayside, well, he could live with it. That's what Hermione was for. He would need those N.E.W.T.s eventually. "I'm just comfortable enough with my life to pick and choose what's worth going for. I don't need to want everything."[/font]

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco snarled. He knew he was loosing traction. It was all thanks to his messed up mindset. He was weak from hunger, and distraction. Even Malfoy, not the type for usually getting physical, especially when he would inevitably lose, was tempted to strike Harry with a punch rather than a comeback. It would be easier to make a fist than for a logical counterargument.

Another option was to just take off in a huff, but that could be taken as defeat. In some cases he was fine with the, but he wouldn't lose to Potter in any way. If he didn't win his way out of his one he would just walk back beating himself up more, and having to see the git again through the rest of the evening. Sodding hat putting this git in his house.

"Everyone's life should always have the chance be better, so that you're always wanting things, working towards something. If not I can't see why you'd bother to stick around and take up space." Draco huffed. He was thinking about those muggle 'hobos' who were perfectly fine having and doing nothing. It irritated him to see people so content with so little. It was probably because he was allowed to have everything aside from what he really wanted.

"And I meant that it means nothing more that I have them than that you have them, or Aurora Davies has them. Or your sister. Bet that girl has secrets, Potter." He said.

"Most Slytherin aren't sorted. They're born and bred to be great and succeed in life. That's why you don't quite fit in." Draco said, glaring at the other boy before getting up. "I'm beginning to feel this is a waste of time. Almost as entertaining as talking to Crabbe and Goyle." he rolled his eyes. "If you're not going to say or do anything interesting, or useful for humiliating you, I'll be leaving now. I have reading to do."

[Harry Potter]

Some perverse part of Harry was relieved and even a little thrilled at the snarl the blond let out. There was that familiar snappish temper; it suited him much better than... whatever was up with him before to make him step away from food and friends both.

He opened his mouth to respond that contentment wasn't bad and he really didn't want to know what sort of disturbing secrets his bratty baby sister might have when Malfoy rose. He blinked, taken aback by the move enough that he didn't rise to the bait of being unfit for Slytherin. That was nothing new anyway. Being born and bred for greatness and success - ha, that would actually explain why he was in the house, considering his father's skills and his mother's popularity - but that paled in the wake of what appeared to be Malfoy's impending departure from the conversation. Entertaining? Since when was he supposed to be entertaining for the prat?

Closing his eyes for a moment, he furrowed his brow and rubbed his temple. "All right. A, being content with what you've got is not bad. It does not mean you have to be stagnant. B, I'm sure there are plenty of things Ariana doesn't want to tell me and I don't want to hear." She was, after all, a healthy, energetic, adolescent girl. What older brother wanted to know everything their baby sister was thinking? Gods, he'd hex his ears before having to listen to her inner monologues. "C, you have a warped idea of what entails greatness. Some Slytherins are great and some are losers, no matter how they're born and bred. And D, I hadn't realised anything I said could be interesting to you," he drawled drily, looking up at him again. "You flatter me.

"But sure,"[/b] he continued in a nonchalant tone, expression changing to one of challenging disdain as he made a dismissive waving gesture. "Go ahead and run away. Lose weight, leave dinner early, ditch your clueless friends, hang around the corridors alone. Whatever flies your broom."[/font]