This was written for the sixth round of QL, this time with the prompt: As Different as Trapped And Free.

Thank you, Ash, for making me see what went wrong.

Word count: 2998

Enjoy reading!

Anything But Normal

Being a Malfoy meant responsibilities.

His father, Lucius Malfoy, had made it his mission to explain to his son what it meant to be the heir of one of the oldest and purest pureblood families of Wizarding Britain. He was expected to marry a woman of wealthy and respectable origin. He was expected to graduate Hogwarts with flying colours, be well respected and gifted in politics, and, of course, produce an heir that would continue the family line.

All of these responsibilities presumed one thing - that he was normal. But in the deep, deep pits of his stomach, Draco Malfoy knew that something wasn't quite right with him. He knew that he was supposed to like girls, to be tempted when they got all flirty, and he knew that his body was supposed to react a certain way when they kissed him or ran their hands up his chest and around his neck.

Yet, there was nothing.

He had tried to force it. He had tried to make his brain see that liking girls was alright; that liking girls was normal and natural to him, but…

A falling sensation pulled at his innards as he forced his eyes off of a Hufflepuff boy's back on the other side of the courtyard. Dark hair, tall, athletic build, broad shoulders… He swallowed painfully. No, this was wrong! This was so wrong! He had a reputation to maintain and he had responsibilities! It was up to him to uphold the Malfoy line and to father an heir! And here he was lusting after his own gender.

It didn't help that the sun that lightened up the courtyard they were sitting in hit his hair just perfectly, showing off the slight red tinge to it.

"Are you even listening to me, Draco?"

The blond blinked owlishly as the annoyed voice of Astoria Greengrass reached his ears. His girlfriend had been going on and on about something or another, and he had lost interest in what she was saying early on.

Astoria was the youngest of the two pureblood sisters, who were members of a well respected family; the Greengrasses. Although they were not as old as the Malfoys, they had proven to be worthy of the title Pureblood.

Her blue eyes blazed angrily as she glared at him. "As I was saying," she drawled as she continued where she had left off, "I received a note from Mother. She says that the negotiations are going well and that your mother is to be expected to agree to my father's proposition of a betrothal contract."

She sniffed, head held high, as her emotionless glance hit Draco straight in the face.

"W-What?" he stuttered, fighting for composure. Betrothal?

"The betrothal, stupid." A fake smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she forced her eyes and cheeks to stay wrinkle-free. "After our graduation. I'm sure your mother talked to you about that."

Draco swallowed and, with a lot of self-control, forced his trained mask onto his face, hiding his real thoughts behind a haughty look.

Before the war, his father had taken him aside to talk about his imminent responsibilities, which included finding an appropriate wife and continuing the line. After everything that had happened in the years afterwards, that topic had completely fled his mind. His stomach felt as if it was twisting uncomfortably as he forced his feelings to the back of his mind and focused on the role he had to play.

"Of course, she has," he said as clearly as possible, as he forced his hand to reach out and push back a strand of Astoria's black hair. It was soft, but the action felt wrong. Bile rose up his throat and he took a deep, calming breath to keep his demeanor as natural as it could be.

Breathe.

"Good." She took hold of his hand. Draco winced slightly but managed to not move at the last moment. "I want everything to be how it's supposed to be. Father has agreed to let me have one of his country houses as part of my dowry, but he still hasn't decided whether to give me the one in France or the one in Greece. I personally prefer France over Greece, but I won't be able to sway him in any direction anyway, so it'll have to be a surprise."

Draco fought for composure. He had to force himself to call upon what he had been taught early on. His stomach turned upside down just thinking of marrying that woman. So, inhaling calmly, the persona of the stuck-up pureblood in him jumped into action and carried on with meaningless small-talk without even really realising what he was saying.

Twenty minutes later, Draco interrupted her, "I should go now." His girlfriend's string of opinions stopped instantly. He didn't even know what she had been talking about for the last ten minutes. All he could think about was how to get out of the Transfiguration courtyard and into some sort of secluded area, where he could breathe and slowly break apart.

"Where to?" Her voice was curious and her eyes sparkled dangerously.

Draco clenched his jaw and forced out all of the air that was trapped inside his lungs. His eyes narrowed, just the perfect amount to seem slightly annoyed at her uncalled-for nosiness to calm her and keep her from getting suspicious.

He hated that he couldn't allow himself to just be himself; his normal, different self. It crushed something deep inside of him and twisted it so much that he felt like he might suffocate.

"Finals are coming up, Astoria," he deadpanned and looked her straight in the eye. Hold their gaze, never show any form of vulnerability. They will jump at the first glimpse of it. Not everything his father had taught him made him question his entire being. "I would very much prefer not to fail and get anything less than an 'E' in my N.E.W.T.s."

He huffed softly, turned on the spot, and forced his feet to move at a leisurely pace.

His thoughts were going haywire. It was all so confusing. Why did he have to be like that? It literally went against everything his father had ever told him to be. He wasn't brave, he wasn't overly cunning, he wasn't selfless, he wasn't ruthless, he wasn't talented in politics, and he most of all couldn't marry someone he couldn't even stand!

He had tried forcing himself to be someone he was not, and it hadn't worked. No matter what he did, or to what extremes he went, it just wasn't working, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He had never learnt how to lead a normal life outside of the limitations that his obligations put on him, and, frankly speaking, he was scared out of his mind.

He didn't know why he felt like he did; all he knew was that his upbringing told him that he should be disgusted of himself, and that was it.

His grey eyes trailed over the crude stone floor that hundreds of generations had walked over before him. As he strode through the castle, he couldn't help but wonder whether there had been others like him who couldn't bring themselves to accept who they truly were?

He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't have anyone he could go to. His mother would literally feed him to the dragons of Gringotts if he so much as dared to tell them that he did not want to marry Astoria. That the reason was not that he didn't like her - which he didn't - but that she was a woman. He just couldn't... He couldn't do that. But why? Why could he not bring himself to accept it? There was still a rather big part of him that refused to acknowledge what was happening to him, and that part hated who Draco had become.

He hurried down the corridor, and through the first door that he could find which led to the Grand Staircase. He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open, only to run headfirst into a very solid chest. A strong arm wrapped around him as if on instinct, and pulled him into a protective embrace.

Draco gasped, shocked. His hands grabbed onto slim, yet hard biceps, as his body was pressed against a lean build of someone who smelt heavenly. The Slytherin detected hints of something natural such as earth or moss, paired with something tangy such as lemon and… wood?

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" an amused voice asked, one that he knew too well.

His stomach dropped as he ripped his head up and stared at the smirking boy just mere centimetres away from him. "Potter?" he exclaimed, eyes huge and mouth agape.

Had he seriously just gushed about how well Harry Potter smelled? Had he seriously just admired… Draco blinked at his hands that had subconsciously wandered to Potter's chest. Horrified, the blond jumped back, nearly pushing the smirking Gryffindor to the ground in the process.

This was disgusting! This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to hate Potter! He had to marry Astoria, for Merlin's sake; he was supposed to have children with her! He was supposed to at least stand her, but he couldn't even bear to be within her close proximity for more than fifteen minutes. He felt like he needed to puke everytime she even touched his hand! How was he supposed to survive a whole lifetime with that woman? Or any woman?

Potter snickered. "Hello to you too, Malfoy."

The Slytherin gulped. Had he noticed anything? Had he felt Draco's hands on his chest? Had he… oh Merlin, please, no!

Potter turned his creepily bright eyes on him. He had not noticed it before, but the green had specks of light brown in them, making them look like gold particles were brightening up their light green even more, making them glow, almost.

Absentmindedly, he wondered how Voldemort had managed to withstand those eyes.

Draco swallowed as the tingling sensation in his belly grew. He blinked and forced his eyes to focus on anything but Potter's bright green eyes that seemed to shine with something akin to knowledge. He was too scared to try to understand that look, so he pulled his eyes away from that piercing green and they, unwillingly, landed on his lips. That was even worse.

"It's a good thing that we bumped into each other, actually. I've… um… I've wanted to talk to you."

Draco blinked and tried to take his eyes off of Potter's lips. This was seriously getting out of hand, and he had to fix it somehow. He couldn't go on like this! Lusting after guys that just wanted to get to their next class…

"Could we maybe go somewhere private? I don't want everyone to stare and listen."

His lips brushed against each other as he spoke. Their texture looked so smooth, so soft, that it was getting increasingly difficult not to do something irresponsible like…

Draco blinked as it got silent. Wait, what had he been saying? Draco panicked slightly as his eyes jumped back to those of Harry. The latter raised his eyebrows knowingly, his smile turned secretive.

Seductive.

Draco gulped and took a deep breath. He schooled his features into a neutral expression and looked the Gryffindor straight in his beautiful eyes. "Of course." He nodded, hoping that his response somehow fit to what was expected of him.

Harry's smile softened and Draco's stomach made another excited somersault, causing him to gasp softly.

"Brilliant," Harry said and waved his hand around awkwardly. "Umm…" He looked slightly overwhelmed, clearly not having expected Draco to accept his proposition. Whatever that had been. "How about we go to the first floor? There's a small alcove at the end of the Muggle Studies hallway."

Silently, Draco nodded and motioned Harry to lead the way.

It didn't take long for them to reach the corridor in which the classroom for Muggle Studies was located. He had never been in this part of the castle before, which didn't come as a surprise as he had not taken the class himself. He had always wondered about how Muggles went about their lives, not being able to do magic to help them throughout the day. Had he actually taken that class, though, he would have been in for the lecture of his life, as no Malfoy meddled with anything Muggle. Ever.

Yet another thing that being a Malfoy had kept him from doing. The more he allowed himself to really see, the more he discovered that his name and the reputation of his family had kept him on a very short leash for his entire life.

"Here we are," Harry said and successfully pulled Draco out of his spiralling thoughts.

The alcove was small, to say the least. It was illuminated by sunlight, having one window situated on one of its three walls. The ceiling was about the same height as those of broom closets, but it was made out of stone instead of wood. There was a set of pillows stacked on top of each other on the other side, but other than that, the space was empty.

"I often come here whenever I want to be alone." Harry's voice was low as he spoke those words. Draco saw a sad smile tug at the Gryffindor's lips, and his hand twitched, desperately wanting to reach out and pull the other towards him.

Draco blinked rapidly, forcing those irresponsible thoughts out of his mind. He didn't know why, but he really couldn't control himself today. Maybe it was his realisation that he didn't want to be with Astoria, or maybe it was his general confusion over everything and the stress that was slowly but surely collapsing on top of him, burrowing him underneath all the anxiety and pain. Harry Potter, however, and that he was sure of, had a major part in his behaviour and he allowed himself to accept that he liked it. He liked it very much.

Harry moved through the small space, grabbed a pillow, and sat down in front of the window. He smiled up at Draco and motioned him to sit down next to him.

"I actually wanted to ask you whether we could start over again," Harry said, awkwardly scratching his neck, as Draco slowly made his way towards him. "I'm tired of all the rivalry that's been going on. The war is over, Voldemort is dead, so there's no real reason why we should go on like nothing's changed." Harry paused and watched the blond curiously. "So, what do you say?"

Weird, Draco thought as a small weight was being lifted off his shoulders. He hadn't realised how much the past had weighed him down.

"Yeah," he said softly, a cautious smile spreading over the blond's face. "I guess we could try that."

His heart skipped a beat as Harry's face lightened up. His eyes sparkled with relief, and Draco couldn't help but stare, mesmerised.

Having the boy's attention focused solely on him was an out-of-body experience. He had never felt anything like this before in his life. Never with Astoria, that was for sure, but also never with anyone else.

"I'm glad."

And in that moment, Draco accepted that he was different, but that didn't mean it was something abnormal or something that he should be ashamed of. Yes, he liked boys. That was more than obvious to him now, especially with how his emotions and body were going haywire just sitting next to the black-haired boy, who had started to develop a pretty blush on his cheeks.

His family was wrong. It wasn't his responsibility to do as he was told. He needed to stand up for himself and do what was best for him. And he would do that. He might even have Harry Potter help him with it. He didn't know yet, but he was excited to find out.

*~*HP*~*

The next day was the best day of his life.

The loud scream that echoed off the walls of the Great Hall that evening shot straight through him and took with it the self-loath and disgust that he had been nursing ever since he had caught himself staring at a fellow Slytherin in his Quidditch gear in his third year.

He savoured the enraged look on Astoria's face and his ex-girlfriend jumped up off the bench and dug her finger into his chest. He just stood there, expression neutral, not showing how much he really enjoyed this moment.

For the first time in his life he had the feeling like he was doing something right, and it was an incredible feeling.

"You can't break up with me, Draco! We are promised to each other! You are supposed to marry me, for goodness sake!"

"You've got that wrong, Astoria," Draco said in a silky, dangerously low voice. Those students who had dared to listen in shrank away. "Our parents agreed on having their children marry this summer. Nobody even thought of whether I agreed as well."

"You're not supposed to agree! You're supposed to do what is expected of a Malfoy!"

"You've got that wrong again, Astoria. This is my life and I will make the decisions for it. Not anybody else. That includes my mother."

He looked her straight in the eye, cold steel-grey into angry light blue. Astoria huffed, crossed her arms across her chest and turned her back to the blond. He knew this wasn't over yet, but he didn't feel any dread for what was surely coming his way.

Draco forced the happy grin off his face as his gaze jumped towards the Gryffindor table. A certain messy-haired boy grinned secretely at him, cheeks flushed and eyes focused solely on him.

He could do this. He knew he could. He wouldn't be alone after all.

I hope you liked this little bit of pre!slash Drarry :)

Until next time - see ya!