Fic: Breaking Point
Title: Breaking point
Pairing: H/D
Summary: Draco has finally enough
Rating: PG
Author Notes: This is my first conscious attempt at angst without happy end, and there is a little unrequited attraction on Harrys side. Also fills the prompts from the Bingo Card 3 for the Hd_writers games: Quidditch World Cup, Mugglesport, Hufflepuff, Pairs Sport, Broomsticks, Aingingain
DIsclaimer: The boys are not mine and I only play with them for fun!
Draco is fuming. Potter has been doing it again. He has made him look like a fool. Of course it would have been too much to expect him to be civil in their eight year. But no, Potter has come up with the genius idea to introduce a Muggle Sport. As if it isn´t bad enough that he has to flaunt his superiority in Quidditch or any other aspect to be realisitic, and if anything Draco has learned to be realisitic. It doesn´t mean that he will give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him stumble about trying to be as good as the Muggleborns at this stupid game.
Beach volleyball in pairs of two, as if it isn´t bad enough that he has to cower in any other class. He will not endure this. Before he can say something that will endanger other classes, he decides to cut his loses and accept a T in Muggle studies. He turns and leaves. Knowing full well that the rest of them are laughing at him, he stalks off. Ready to tell Mc Gonegall that he is giving up. If she wants to throw him out he will takes his chances. He has already applied to the institute of potions mastery in Salem. If push comes to shove he will rather have what is left of his dignity intact, than stay in the familiar country.
Before he reaches the castle though, he hears someone run after him. "Malfoy wait!" He turns around and sure enough - the bane of his existence is running towards him. Part of him simpy wants to storm into the castle and get this all over with. He has tried, has kept to himself, got out of everyones way and really hasn´t said anything against the new world, even though he hates the way everyone pushes Muggleculture in his face. He feels uncomfortable with it, it is so strange, to have to help in the kitchens making meals, just because Granger feels that it is too much work for the houseelves. Stripping his bed by hand every week and bringing it down into the washing room, it is humiliating. But he has reached his breaking point. When Potter reaches him and asks "What on earth is wrong with you, Malfoy?" Draco explodes.
"You think this is all so much fun, right? Lets see how well the Slytherins take to being put in their place, how good it feels to play houseelves, how they adjust to have to play at being Muggleborn, not using magic? Lets see how stupid they´ll look running around on a stupid patch of sand, chasing after a fucking ball that doesn´t even fly! Well fuck you, if you wanted to see how far you could push me, well you have won. I am done. I give up. I would rather play mascot at the Quidditch World cup, than spend one more moment in your bigotted presence. Voldemort was wrong putting wizarding culture above everything else, but by Merlin you lot are not one bit better." Draco is simply exhausted. He doesn´t wait for Potter to respond, he is done here. He enters the castle, intend on going up to Mc Gonegall. He will not cry he is far beyond such Hufflepuff tendencies, but he is exhausted.
Potter is not to be deterred though. "So you run away? Because life isn´t going the way you want it you just give up? I never thought you would be such a coward." He says it with an air of derision, but Draco is beyond caring.
"Say what you will Potter. Maybe I am a coward, to be honest I am beyond caring. Go play your Mugglesport, commandeer your army of Mugglelovers, I don´t expect you to play Aingingain anytime soon. But I had expected you of all people to know something about balance. I guess I was wrong."
Potter latches onto the least important thing he has said true to his nature. "What on earth is Aingingain?"
Draco snorts, of course that is what he has to ask. "When one plays Aingingain one by one players take the Dom - the ball, which is the gall bladder of a goat -and speed through burning barrels, which are in the air on stilts. The winner is the person who gets through all the barrels in the quickest time and hasn't caught fire. Now excuse me, I need to pack."
Potter grabs him. "All of that because of a stupid game? Just because you don´t understand Beach Volleyball?"
Draco simply pries the hand of his arm. "I could try beating it into your big head with ten broomsticks and you wouldn´t get it. I will gladly spell it out for you. There is no place for me in this new world of yours anymore. I tried to adjust, I tried to fit in. But I can´t be something I am not, and I am tired of pretending. l leave tomorrow morning for Salem." He doesn´t look back, when the door opens and he steps into McGonegalls office. It is time to find his own place in the world.
He doesn´t hear when Potter whispers. "But my world isn´t complete without you."