AN I don't own HP or any of the characters! Written for the IWSC summer camp

Story Title: A Different Kind of Accomplishment

Activity/Round: Paintball- Sometimes it's not about how good you are, but how bad you want it.

Prompt: Write about overcoming a huge obstacle. (50 points)

Word Count: 978

After the war, everyone came back different. It only made sense, of course, because they'd been through hell and that kind of experience changes people—usually in very rational, understandable ways. Ron was quieter now, and had a streak of brown dyed in his hair so that he couldn't resemble Fred. Hermione spent a lot of time just staring off into space. Most of the eighth year students hadn't returned, or had gone to another school to escape the memories, but Harry couldn't help observing them all. He was the only one who didn't feel that different, really.

His interest, though, went to Draco Malfoy. The Mark was like a brand or a patch that somehow gave the world an excuse to spit on anyone who had it. Draco was also one of the only bearers of the Mark who was not imprisoned or buried, which let the hatred and anger towards that side of the war fester and focus on him even more so. Still, he'd been acquitted. Now, more than ever, Harry wanted to scream at those who kicked the blond around that violence wasn't helping. Divisions and prejudices were the reason they'd had the war in the first place…

Draco had changed after the war, too. Harry hadn't been there but he'd heard from some friends in the Ministry that Draco had watched his father's execution, and had been there to see his mother carried off to Azkaban. He would have thought that that kind of thing would break someone like Draco—someone who'd given so much for their family. But he didn't come back broken.

The Draco Malfoy that walked back into Hogwarts was not frail, withered, or hollow. It'd been hard to notice, at first, how pale and skinny the man had become over the last few years of turmoil and death, but now that Draco had returned with the body of a normal person it seemed extreme. Clearly, living on his own had been good for his physical health, at least.

That wasn't what took everyone by surprise, though. Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, had come back with no goonies, no money, and absolutely no arrogance. He wasn't nice or kind—not by a long shot—but he was no daddy's boy anymore and Harry got the impression that he'd never really been one at heart, even before. This Draco, though, retained all of his attitude and his sharp tongue—but this Draco was different.

More than anything, Draco Malfoy had come back to their eighth year dangerous. His hair was shorter than it'd ever been while his father was alive, his words were even harsher, but now he didn't whimper when threatened. Even just the three summer months had clearly had an effect, and the Draco that re-entered their lives was sharp, and…

And what? Was there was word to describe the way that the blond's hand never left his wand, like he was just living conflict to conflict? Or the way he bowed his head, feigning submission, only to hiss curses under his breath?

Draco had come back hard and callous, like he knew the world was against him and he was prepared to go down swinging. There was sharpness to his expression, now, that felt like a threat every time he breathed. Everyone was scared of him—those who didn't fear the Mark, feared his wand or his fist enough to give him a wide berth—and he'd earned that fear since day one. Already, he'd put four different students in the Hospital Wing. But Harry couldn't make himself be afraid of the blond.

"Malfoy." He hadn't meant to make Draco jump so violently, but he didn't dare apologize just yet. Instead, he just held up his hands to show that he wasn't a threat.

"What." It wasn't a question, and that sharpness didn't waver in the slightest. Still, Harry took a few steps closer and lowered his voice to a normal speaking volume.

"I want to know why you're so different now." Shockingly enough, Draco didn't spit in his face or try to hex him for asking something so personal. In the one place Harry would have expected that cold exterior, Draco softened.

"I'm universally hated, Potter, you try being all rainbows and sunshine when half the school would kill you if they had the chance." It was completely reasonable and, in Harry's opinion, completely true but that didn't ease the sting of those words. Draco was just so… resigned to be hated.

"Not universally." Harry knew that was a stupid comeback but it was all he could think of when he mind was still reeling, trying to process the fact that someone very likely had tried to kill Draco while here at Hogwarts. The blond had walked into a lion's den, so to speak, by daring to come back. He could see that latent fear even now.

"I don't hate you." Draco just raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm serious, I don't. I didn't like you much before but you're different now. You're—"

"A prat." Harry frowned.

"I was going to say resilient. You came back, Malfoy, and I respect you for that because I know you couldn't have been welcomed with open arms. But you're here and that, in itself, is it's own kind of accomplishment, don't you think?" Draco snorted as if he clearly didn't agree, but Harry could see the surprise in his expression. The blond had always been hard on himself—that was something they shared.

"An accomplishment?" He sounded so completely taken aback that Harry wanted to hug him just to prove that he wasn't completely alone. It made no sense, given their rivalry, but he'd meant what he said. He truly did respect the strength that Draco had shown by even daring to come back at all.

"Yeah, an accomplishment. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Malfoy."

Thanks for reading!