Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

Draco Malfoy stared at the messy black mop of hair across the hall. Oh, he knew that it was probably stupid, but he hated the boy.

That boy, the simple minded little boy, gained friends and allies by being himself. And he could trust them. That's more then Draco could say about his own 'friends' and 'allies'. Oh, he could trust them. To turn on him if it was ever to their advantage. To report his every movement to their parents.

But that boy, he could trust everyone in that stupid circle of his, to help him fight the Dark Lord, to stand with him against anyone he needed to fight. To protect him from anything that they could.

And Draco envied that.

Harry Potter, the rival of his Lord, his father, his family. Harry who survived where no one should, or could. Harry who had that bloody ridiculous luck, and always came out alive. Not unscathed, no, but not dead.

And yes, he should be dead.

The boy who had the perfect life, waited on hand and foot without asking.

But did he realize how lucky he was? No. He thought it was just because he was him.

Or the fame. How the stupid boy loathed his fame. If only Draco had half the luck that Harry had, then Draco would be able to go far. But no, the stupid boy didn't use anything to his advantage. Who could blame the hate, when faced with such an idiot?

This boy, this stupid boy, had everything.

And Draco wanted it.

But this boy didn't.

Now the fates are laughing...and Draco never liked being laughed at.