Author’s Drivel

In Collaboration and Conspiracy with Galadriel Narmolanya, I proudly present my first HP fiction. Also, thanks to her, the story came out fine without sounding stupid or anything.

I was hoping not to turn it AU, so I decided on a relatively safe timeline that would not turn it AU.

Set after Half-Blood Prince and ignores Deathly Hallows.

Here, Harry spontaneously combusts! (cackles)

Kidding.

Disclaimer
Characters belong to the great author, J. K. Rowling and the song Fences belongs to Paramore.

Summary
Draco is sick of seeing Harry be the perfect Boy Who Lived he’s not. So, he decides that enough is enough... And that it is a rather fascinating sight to see Harry truly angered.

Fences

I'm sitting in a room
Made up of only big white walls, and in the hall,
There are people looking through the window
Though they know exactly what we're here for

“You’re an insufferable git, you know that, Malfoy? Merlin! I don’t know what possessed me to think that you’d even have an ounce of decency in you just because we were on a truce!”

Emerald eyes flashed with barely restrained anger as Harry all but growled at the equally furious blond. Normally, Harry would have been able to ignore, or retort with sarcasm, Draco’s comments, knowing it was practically his nature to be a prat. But the burden of the knowledge that Voldemort was uprising fast, and that people were looking to him for guidance now that Dumbledore was gone, was finally weighing him down.

And with Ron forever going on about Quidditch (honestly, his mind hissed indignantly, you’d think McGonagall would cancel it now that we’re in the middle of a bloody war!) and Hermione lecturing everyday how they needed to keep their studies up war or not, was stressing him out even further in all ways he did not need.

Don't look up
Just let them think
There's no place else
You'd rather be.

Really, if they were alone, Harry would have said more, swore more, lashed out worse but as it is, they had an audience. A bloody bunch of gossip vultures, the Boy Who Lived thought in disgust, unable to comprehend how the students could still go on about life as though the war does not exist at all.

Well, no one could really get privacy in the middle of the Great Hall in the first place.

Damn Draco for choosing right then, at breakfast of all times, to aggravate him!

You're always on display
For everyone to watch and learn from,
Don't you know by now,

“Of course I do, Potter. And it’s not my fault you misinterpreted my personality due to your own incompetence,” Draco drawled in reply, inwardly grinning in glee. That’s it, Harry, keep your anger flowing. Merlin knows you need some way to let all that stress out. “Really, you’d think six years would have taught you something about me!”

You can't turn back
Because this road is all you'll ever have.

Draco watched as Harry reacted just as he predicted.

“Shut, up, Malfoy!” he practically screamed.

“Why don’t you make me, Potter?” Draco taunted further, smirking as he shifted, leaning slightly more on his left leg.

Harry clenched his fists then unclenched them again. He repeated the action just as he took deep breaths in hopes of calming down and not fall apart. He had to not to do just that. Not in front of the entire school, not in front of McGonagall, not in front of Ron and Hermione. He could not, cannot, afford to fall apart anytime soon. He could not break the perfect image of the Boy Who Lived. Not then, not now, not until the war was over. It would send everyone into hysteria.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.
Just living proof that the camera's lying.

Stop it, Harry, just stop pretending you’re perfect, Draco hissed in his mind when he realised the Gryffindor was still restraining himself. “Too coward to do something about it, Potter? I thought you were the perfect little Gryffindor, always stupidly brash and all about going up the front,” he continued, feeling Snape’s eyes on them and their little spat, and knowing it was the Potions Master who was preventing McGonagall from doing anything to intervene. “You’re just the perfect Golden Boy, aren’t you?” This is going to hurt... “But I guess you aren’t so perfect after all, having a Mudblood for a mother.”

That really did it.

Harry snapped.

“Shut the hell up, Malfoy! Don’t you dare insult my mother when your father is a sodding Death Eater!” Harry snarled, ignoring every other person around them.

Well, it got him reacting, at least, Draco winced.

And oh, oh open wide, 'cause this is your night.
So smile, 'cause you'll go out in style.
You'll go out in style.

The blond tried to get a word in, but the Boy Who Lived was on a roll.

“You’re right. Happy now? You’re absolutely, fucking right! I’m not perfect! I’m just trying to do the bloody right thing while we’re in the middle of a war when everyone else around me is living their lives like the war doesn’t even exist! So excuse me for not jumping at a chance to rip you apart into pieces right now! Excuse me for not living up to your expectations because you’ll just have to wait with them while I live up to the others in the fucking long line just up front!”

The silence that fell over the Great Hall was deafening. No one spoke a word, no one even dared to move, as if afraid that the slightest motion would set off the Gryffindor again.

McGonagall was frozen stiff in shock, and even Snape was surprised by the outburst, not that he would ever admit to his jaw having dropped a minuscule.

The only thing that could be heard was Harry’s deep breathing as he tried to reel in his anger again, feeling ashamed that he did break and judging by the look in Draco’s eyes, he knew it had been planned.

For what? My humiliation? he scoffed in his thoughts.

And it was then, he realised that they were still standing in the middle of the Great Hall.

Harry’s face paled, but he keep his expression blank as he threw a final glare at Draco before turning away, black robes falling around him with a flair. He stormed out of the place as he spat in his thoughts, I really hope you’re ecstatic now, Malfoy.

--

If you let me I could,
I'd show you how to build your fences, set restrictions,

Harry tuned out Ron’s ramblings about the latest winnings of the Chudley Cannons as he walked towards the Great Hall for dinner. He ignored Hermione as she tried to tell Ron to shut up about Quidditch and to study for their next Charms test.

He could not, however, ignore the blonde who suddenly appeared in front of them. “Off to dinner, Potter?” Draco smirked.

“Sod off, Ferret!” Ron growled as he stood forward, pulling up his sleeves as though preparing for a fight.

“What’s it to you, Malfoy? It is dinnertime,” Harry replied scathingly, still feeling sore about breakfast. He paid no attention to Hermione who was trying to pull both him and Ron away as he glared at the blonde.

“Come now, Potter. Still feeling hurt about breakfast?” Draco simpered. I was just wanting to give you some advice, Harry. How to deal with your problems and all. Merlin knows you have so many of them.

Separate from the world.
The constant battle that you hate to fight,
Just blame the limelight.

Harry just turned away, hating that the Slytherin had guessed right. But he hated it even more that he was reacting at all.

“What, no comebacks?” Draco scoffed. “Maybe what was left of your brain finally died out.” He glanced around them for a moment, and noted that the other students were watching and already beginning to whisper frantically to each other.

“Shut up and sod off before I make you, Ferret!” Ron yelled, face flushed as he tried to pull away from Hermione without hurting her.

“And now the Weasel has to answer for you?” Draco arched a brow. “That’s just pathetic!”

“Stop it, Malfoy, just stop it!” Harry snapped.

Don't look up
Just let them think

“Why should I, Potter?” Draco sneered. “Just because you’re the Boy Who Lived, you think I have to listen to you, is that it?”

There's no place else
You'd rather be.

Harry bared his teeth in a snarl similar to that of a predator's, startling Draco and the gathering crowd at that moment. “I did not choose to live my life this way, Malfoy! I had no options to choose from in the very first place! Stop making it sound like I wanted to be the Boy Who Lived!”

And now you can't turn back
Because this road is all you'll ever have.

Perfect performance! Draco thought as he grinned inwardly. That’ll make them see. If it doesn’t, then the rest of the world is just more of an imbecile than I thought.

Harry was disquieted to see the genuine grin appear on Draco’s expression all of a sudden. And the sudden discomfort made him realise that they had an audience. Again.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.
Just living proof that the camera's lying.

Now what? Another plan? he thought, strangely hurt by the notion.

And oh, oh open wide, 'cause this is your night.
So smile.

Draco’s grin waned when he noticed the frown on the Gryffindor’s face and his darkening expression.

Yeah, yeah you're asking for it
With every breath that you breathe in
Just breathe it in.

It’s your fault that you reacted, Harry, so just suck it up! Harry scolded himself harshly. Just –walk pass him to dinner. Ignore the prat. Even his own voice in his mind sounded tired.

Yeah, yeah well you're just a mess
You do all this big talking

But it’s cause I really am, isn’t it? Harry muttered further in his mind, eyes becoming hooded as he lost sense of everyone around him.

I didn’t go too far trying to help him, did I? Draco thought worriedly as he watched the Boy Who Lived lose the tension in his body and seemingly slouched as though he had no life left in him. Maybe he’s really that exhausted of it all.

So now let's see you walk it.
I said let's see you walk it.

No, no, no! Absolutely no! I can’t break now! I can’t! Harry stiffened and straightened his back quite suddenly, glaring at Draco again. Not after Cedric and Sirius. I won’t lose anymore lives!

Yeah, yeah well you're just a mess
You do all this big talking

Draco was surprised to see the swift shift of emotions, but he sneered again. Have to make him react again. He’s not going to withdraw again. I won’t allow it, not when I drew him out already! “You really expect me to believe that load of bull, Potter?”

So now let's see you walk it.
I said let's see you walk it.

But Harry had a tight leash on his anger this time. “Of course not, Malfoy. I said it out of pure anger and was not in the right state of mind,” he replied derisively. I know what you’re doing. So just stop it. Stop trying to break me in front of everyone.

He rolled his eyes to emphasise his sardonicism, but he never stopped glaring eye to eye at the Malfoy heir.

And it's obvious that you're dying, dying.
Just living proof that the camera's lying.

Why can’t you bloody stop thinking about everyone else around you for one minute, you insufferable idiot! Draco scoffed, “When have you ever been in the right state of mind at all?”

And oh, oh open wide, yeah oh, oh open wide.

The leash on Harry’s anger snapped.

Yeah, oh, oh open wide,

Draco never saw the fist drawing back until it came into contact with his face.

'Cause you'll go out in style.
You'll go out in style.