(Completed fic) The Worst Intentions (Chapter Fourteen)
Title: The Worst Intentions
Rating: PG - 13 (this chapter)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Wordcount: 3500
Summary: What if Draco's task was not to repair the Vanishing Cabinet, but instead, to learn Dumbledore's secrets through Harry? Bitter enemies from their first meeting, Draco must find a way to forge a bond with Harry.
Author's Notes: This is an alternative reality fic in which Draco's mission differs from that of J.K Rowling's book. However, some elements of the canon will be used.
Feedback: Yes please!
Disclaimer: None of this is mine as I'm sure you already know
Previous Chapters: Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen
Draco stared after Harry for a long moment until Hogwarts shook with a violent blast. Somewhere nearby part of the wall had caved in and the shouted incantations of the duellers resonated throughout the school. Staggering to his feet, Goyle groaned as Draco tried to wake him and they stumbled along the corridor in the opposite direction to Harry.
Death Eaters and students alike rushed past them, all firing spells and trying to avoid the falling stone as a pair of giants began to tear the building apart. They had managed to destroy and entire tower and from the gaping hole, Draco could see swarms of Dementors gliding across the grounds. He shuddered with fear and could feel their icy cold presence from many feet above. He had no idea where exactly he was heading for, only aware that he needed to find comparative safety and avoid a confrontation with either a Death Eater or a fellow student.
In the midst of the anarchic chaos, Voldemort’s voice reverberated around the school once again causing every duel to be paused mid-spell as each individual listened with trepidation.
“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour.
I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest and if, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, the battle recommences. One hour.”
Instantly, the Death Eaters melted from the castle and in droves they made their way to the forest. Draco watched them through a shattered window pane and felt no inclination to join them. He searched the mass of black for his parents, but the light was too dim to make out even their distinctive blond hair. Hoping that they were not among the many figures lying motionless on the grass, he set off down a deserted corridor.
Goyle had been separated from him at some point, but he didn’t bother searching for his former accomplice. Instead, he was possessed with a fierce desperation to find Harry and prevent him from entering the forest. If he succeeded, the battle would resume and he would take up arms against Voldemort and his followers.
He would undoubtedly be slain as easily as a first year attempting to duel, but if that meant Harry would have a little longer to live, a sliver of a chance to escape, then it would be worth it. Draco was not one for heroic self-sacrifices, but he was prepared to do anything if it gave Harry an opportunity for survival.
The entrance hall was packed with people carrying what appeared to be statues, but were, of course, the corpses of their friends and family. No one paid Draco any heed as he slipped into the Great Hall and made his way through the crowd. Neither Harry, Weasley nor Granger were anywhere to be seen, so Draco stepped out into the grounds, staring out at the trees he had vanished into this time last year.
He watched as Longbottom returned again and again to collect the bodies and marvelled at the change in the timid, talentless boy who had managed to melt a cauldron in every Potions lesson. Draco didn’t dare approach him, but from a distance he was able to cast Feather-Light Charms on the corpses and even Levitate a few so they could be easily transported into the hall.
His mind was utterly blank and emotionless as he recognised the faces of so many fellow students, though he knew their vacant stares would stay with him for as long as he lived.
****
Whether he had fallen into an uneasy sleep or lost consciousness, Draco couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn he had felt the brush of slippery fabric against his skin. Instantly alert again, Draco cursed himself for not remembering that Harry was probably making use of his Invisibility Cloak to conceal himself from view.
With a start, Draco became aware of a wave of black emerging from the forest and to his horror, he realised that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were heading towards the school. He fleetingly considered running inside to warn everyone when Voldemort’s voice, magically magnified, swelled through the grounds,
“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.
The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared.”
Even as the words echoed in Draco’s ears, he was dismissing them as another of Voldemort’s lies, but the mass of Death Eaters drew closer and he saw Hagrid being pushed forward. Behind Draco the remaining students, professors and members of the Order flooded onto the castle steps and fanned out.
Voldemort continued to approach and Draco caught sight of a bundle in the gamekeeper’s arms, the pale skin and black hair of -
NO!
How could this have happened? It couldn’t be real; surely it was just an illusion, a clever deceit of Voldemort to sway the outcome of the war in his favour.
Hagrid’s face was streaming with tears, and the crowd on the steps took a sharp intake of breath. Draco’s jaw slackened and his mouth hung open, his eyes widened as he struggled to make sense of what he saw.
It was undeniably Harry lying in Hagrid’s arms.
Harry’s dead body........Harry’s body........dead..........
Draco swayed and he was unable to tear his gaze away from the face he had come to know so intimately. Around him, the crowd began to hurl insults at Voldemort, swearing that Harry had beaten him, that Harry wasn’t dead, that they hadn’t lost the battle.
Out of nowhere, Longbottom ran forward and Bellatrix laughed, cold and deranged. Draco was unable to see exactly what happened, but suddenly Voldemort was igniting the Sorting Hat on Longbottom’s head. From the forest, a giant thundered towards them and the crowd scattered.
Draco pushed his way forward, hell bent on retrieving Harry’s body and preventing him from being trampled on, but the battle had recommenced and he was forced back inside the castle. Crushed against students and Death Eaters alike, Draco was carried along with the crowd towards the Great Hall.
He tried in vain to turn back and craned his neck over the sea of people in an attempt to see what had happened to Harry. All around him duels were breaking out and he threaded his way through the knots of people, casting Shield Charms left, right and centre as the light of a thousand deadly curses flashed about the hall.
Draco caught sight of his aunt falling at Weasley’s mother’s hand, finally beaten after inflicting irreparable damage on the Wizarding World, and felt a peculiar numbness steal over his body. Nearby, he heard his parents screaming his name and they raced towards him, heedless of the fatal spells being shot over their heads.
Reunited with their son, Lucius and Narcissa clutched onto him and refused to let go. Together they tried to drag Draco through the crowds and away from the danger, but he stood his ground, watching in despair as Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Mrs Weasley.
“Protego!”
Sounding as if it had been magically magnified, Harry’s voice resounded around the hall and Draco felt an immense jolt of shock as the Gryffindor stepped forward. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, and yet there Harry was; defiant, fearless and inexplicably alive.
Voldemort hissed, his soulless red eye betraying his complete disorientation at Harry’s inconceivable survival. They began circling one another; the crowd motionless as the two wizards drew their wands and spoke. Their words held little meaning for Draco as they spoke of something called a ‘horcrux,’ and he focused instead on every movement Harry made, willing each step he took not to be a wrong move.
With a rush of remembrance, Draco realised that the wand in Harry’s hand was, in fact, the very one that had been taken from him during the chaos at Malfoy Manor. The events of that horrifying day when Harry had been captured by the Snatchers had played repeatedly in Draco’s mind all year and he re-lived the scene again with practiced ease.
Each detail was burned into his memory as he recalled the devastating panic he had felt as Harry, Weasley and Granger had been unceremoniously shoved into the manor’s hallway by Fenrir Greyback. He had fought the overwhelming impulse to run up the stairs and hide, for the first time wishing that he was unable to set eyes on Harry.
When asked to identify the boy, who was clearly suffering the ill-effects of a Stinging Hex, he had very reluctantly stepped forward, afraid to look directly at Harry for fear that he would break down and give everything away. He had been forced to witness Granger’s torture and the scene still caused bile to rise acidic and bitter in his throat. Jeering at the girl at school for her brains and her blood-status had left no permanent mark on his conscience, but seeing her reduced to a screaming wreck in his own home was intolerable.
Somehow, with that remarkable ability to find a way out of the tightest of corners, Harry had managed to escape, but not before Disarming him and Disapparating. Draco had felt momentarily bereft without his wand, but the more he thought about it, the more hope he could draw from the fact that Harry was now in possession of something he had owned. It was absurd, but Draco had felt as if in taking his wand, Harry was now in a better position to win the war, or at least defend himself, even though he had a perfectly good wand of his own,
Now, as Voldemort and Harry confronted each other, Draco could only pray that his wand would be wielded skilfully enough to protect its new bearer’s life. With all his attention on the wand, the actual conversation between the two wizards had past Draco by and the sudden exclamations brought him sharply back to the present.
As Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, Draco closed his eyes, unable to witness the inevitable death that would follow. He heard Harry shouting the Disarmament Charm and the shred of hope he had felt at the boy’s miraculous return evaporated. The silence in the hall that followed the casting of the spells seemed to confirm his worst nightmare and it was only when a deafening roar tore the air that he dared open his eyes.
The watching crowd had swarmed forward, embracing one another and sobbing unashamedly. Utterly confused, Draco stared around in wonder, trying to make sense of the sudden change of atmosphere. His parents retreated to an unoccupied corner, ill at ease in the celebrations and as a group of people parted, Draco caught sight of hollow shell of the most feared Dark wizard of the age.
He sat down on a bench with a thump, unsure whether he should be joining in with the masses of cheering students or surrendering himself to their mercy. Above the babbling chatter, the clear, unmistakeable voice of Loony Lovegood announced,
“Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!”
Draco’s head turned along with the rest as they stared in the direction of her pointing finger, so he was caught unawares when Harry’s voice spoke quietly,
“Will you come with me?”
Lucius and Narcissa jumped as they also heard him speak, and they stared around them in alarm as Harry remained out of sight. Draco knew that he must be hiding beneath the Invisibility Cloak, as usual wanting no part in the attention he usually received, and extracted himself from his seat between his parents. They protested when he hurried out of the hall, but Draco didn’t look back as Harry pulled him under the Cloak and guided him up the stairs.
Evidence of the battle was unavoidable as they travelled through the deserted school and more than once they had to take a different route as crumbled walls blocked their path. Draco had no idea where exactly Harry was taking him, walking in a daze as the outcome of the battle sunk in.
Eventually, Harry stopped and Draco realised that they were standing beside the very same plinth which they had sat on all that time ago after the fateful Quidditch match. The portraits lining the walls were devoid of figures, so Harry removed the cloak and sat, motioning for Draco to follow his example.
For a while neither of them spoke, and Draco struggled to think of a way to put into words the tumultuous emotions he was experiencing. Glancing sideways, he saw that Harry was staring contemplatively ahead, appeared to be in deep thought. Draco took this opportunity now that he was no longer fighting for his life to properly observe the other boy.
Harry seemed to have grown, not in terms of height, but in a very different sense. He appeared somehow more mature, more adult and not only because a dusting of black stubble had grown along his jaw. Draco felt rather intimidated in his presence and in awe of the Gryffindor until Harry spoke thoughtfully, twirling the wand between his fingers,
“Do you remember when we first met?”
Draco had expected recriminations, demands that he explain himself and suffer the consequences of his actions, not casual reminiscing. He stammered as he replied,
“Er.......yes, it was on the Hogwarts Express.......no........in Madam Malkin’s!”
“You were the first wizard of my own age I ever met and I hated you from then on.”
This admission came as a shock, though really, it was entirely unsurprising. Draco recalled with a twist of embarrassment how even at eleven, he had been an arrogant bully.
Harry continued, though his tone had become extremely awkward,
“Last year it changed.........I don’t know what it was, but suddenly I could see you in a different light as you struggled with the responsibility Voldemort had given you.........I pitied you and even though we were both dealing with different burdens, I felt as if you were the one person who could understand how hard it was meet everyone’s expectations.”
Draco felt a wave of shame wash over him and stood up abruptly, moving to one the windows and staring unseeingly out at the grounds. He couldn’t look at Harry as he spoke, his thoughts being difficult enough to express without meeting the other boy’s eyes.
“Why are you here with me, Harry? All your friends, your supporters, everyone who had stuck with you from the beginning are down in the hall. You should be with them, not with a......traitor.”
He spat the last word out with painful remorse, the guilt he had been feeling ever since he had first admitted his feelings for Harry to himself coming crashing down on him. His hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep the tears at bay. It was difficult enough expressing how regretful he was, without openly breaking down about it.
Unbeknownst to him, Harry had risen from his seat on the plinth and stood next to him. He spoke quietly, his breath warm against Draco’s cheek,
“You’re right: you are a traitor.” The confirmation hit Draco with devastating force and he shrunk away from Harry. Unperturbed, the other boy continued, “You were sucked into Voldemort’s circle, you acted despicably as you tried to do his bidding, you attempted to murder Dumbledore, but you never acted as if you enjoyed any of it.”
Harry brushed his hand against Draco’s, trying to link their fingers together. Draco didn’t resist the gesture and instead, turned away from the window to face Harry, possessed with an intense desire to explain himself. He was still unable to meet the distinctive green eyes and focused on Harry’s shoulder, his words coming out in a rush,
“I’m sorry...........I’m sorry for everything...............for poisoning your best friend, for being part of a plan to kill Dumbledore.......you have no idea how much I wanted to confide in you, how much it hurt to lie to you last year..........”
As dawn broke, the rising sun stained the sky blood-red and suddenly the distance between them had decreased as Harry drew nearer.
Clasping both of Draco’s hands in his own, Harry tilted his head back, gazing up at Draco.
“It’s over. Finally, after everything, it’s finished and we won.”
His voice contained a note of wonder, almost as if he was having great difficulty grasping the enormity of what he had achieved. Harry smiled with such pure, unadulterated joy that it tugged tortuously at Draco’s heart. He would have liked nothing more than to sink into the other boy’s arms and put the past behind him, but an uneasy twisting in his stomach held him back.
Draco took a deep breath as he tried to order his thoughts.
“Harry, I.......what happened between us last year..........it wasn’t a mistake, but I want you to understand that even though I intended to manipulate you, I couldn’t go through with it because my feelings were too strong........I never used you..........never...........I’ll understand if you don’t want anything more to do with me..........”
“Ron was right: you are the world’s biggest prat, Draco. Do you think I would have actively sought you out, brought you here alone just to cast you aside? Dumbledore always believed in second chances and it would be an insult to his memory if I didn’t learn something from him.”
Harry’s tone was serious, but his eyes contained no trace of condemnation, only a fervent desire for his words to be understood. He released Draco’s hands only to pull him into a close embrace. Hardly believing that despite his disgraceful behaviour last year, he had been granted forgiveness, Draco hesitated before burying his face in the untidy black hair.
How Harry had managed to cheat death not once, but twice in one day was difficult to comprehend, but for now, Draco felt no curiosity to discover what had happened, not yet at least.
Feeling the warm, solid body beneath his arms, Draco clung to Harry, crushing their bodies together as if he feared that at any moment, the other boy could be taken from him. It required very little effort for both of them to shift their positions just enough to brush their mouths together.
The ghosting touch of Harry’s lips on his own caused a swooping sensation in Draco’s stomach and he pushed forward, forcing Harry against the wall. Returning the kiss with equal passion, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s fine hair and twining their legs together as though he too, was afraid of their reunion being interrupted.
Heart hammering, Draco drew back to take a gulp of air, Harry’s own breathing coming in short gasps. They both refused to loosen their grip and contemplated each other intently as their pulses began to slow. Draco carefully examined every cut and every graze on Harry’s skin, noticing the smudged traces of soot from the cursed fire they had flown through together. He realised that he must also look dishevelled, his hair falling into his eyes from when Harry had tangled his fingers in it.
“We can’t stay here for much longer; people are bound to come searching for me, and if they find us like this.....”
Disappointment etched across his face, Harry sighed, though made no move to escape from Draco’s arms.
“Does it matter what they see? I know my intentions were the very worst when I first started to become close to you, but if you have managed to believe that I’ve changed, surely everyone else will begin to realise the same. We shouldn’t be afraid of their reaction, not after everything we’ve been through.”
Draco felt a rush of thrilling elation as he pictured himself and Harry, openly and unashamedly together. Experiencing a brief stab of fear when Harry didn’t reply instantly, his worry was unfounded as a low, almost inaudible whisper reached his ears,
“I’m not afraid.”
Leaning forward again, Draco placed a delicate kiss on Harry’s lips, all the desperation from earlier dissipated as an unspoken agreement passed between them.
Draco knew that they would face a great many difficulties and a horrendous amount of gossip when they were found, but if they were able to get through war, torture and, in Harry’s case, death, this would be no more strenuous than a game of Quidditch and with an even more gratifying result.
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic and must know the sixth book inside out and back to front by now!
Rating: PG - 13 (this chapter)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Wordcount: 3500
Summary: What if Draco's task was not to repair the Vanishing Cabinet, but instead, to learn Dumbledore's secrets through Harry? Bitter enemies from their first meeting, Draco must find a way to forge a bond with Harry.
Author's Notes: This is an alternative reality fic in which Draco's mission differs from that of J.K Rowling's book. However, some elements of the canon will be used.
Feedback: Yes please!
Disclaimer: None of this is mine as I'm sure you already know
Previous Chapters: Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six / Chapter Seven / Chapter Eight / Chapter Nine / Chapter Ten / Chapter Eleven / Chapter Twelve / Chapter Thirteen
Draco stared after Harry for a long moment until Hogwarts shook with a violent blast. Somewhere nearby part of the wall had caved in and the shouted incantations of the duellers resonated throughout the school. Staggering to his feet, Goyle groaned as Draco tried to wake him and they stumbled along the corridor in the opposite direction to Harry.
Death Eaters and students alike rushed past them, all firing spells and trying to avoid the falling stone as a pair of giants began to tear the building apart. They had managed to destroy and entire tower and from the gaping hole, Draco could see swarms of Dementors gliding across the grounds. He shuddered with fear and could feel their icy cold presence from many feet above. He had no idea where exactly he was heading for, only aware that he needed to find comparative safety and avoid a confrontation with either a Death Eater or a fellow student.
In the midst of the anarchic chaos, Voldemort’s voice reverberated around the school once again causing every duel to be paused mid-spell as each individual listened with trepidation.
“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour.
I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest and if, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, the battle recommences. One hour.”
Instantly, the Death Eaters melted from the castle and in droves they made their way to the forest. Draco watched them through a shattered window pane and felt no inclination to join them. He searched the mass of black for his parents, but the light was too dim to make out even their distinctive blond hair. Hoping that they were not among the many figures lying motionless on the grass, he set off down a deserted corridor.
Goyle had been separated from him at some point, but he didn’t bother searching for his former accomplice. Instead, he was possessed with a fierce desperation to find Harry and prevent him from entering the forest. If he succeeded, the battle would resume and he would take up arms against Voldemort and his followers.
He would undoubtedly be slain as easily as a first year attempting to duel, but if that meant Harry would have a little longer to live, a sliver of a chance to escape, then it would be worth it. Draco was not one for heroic self-sacrifices, but he was prepared to do anything if it gave Harry an opportunity for survival.
The entrance hall was packed with people carrying what appeared to be statues, but were, of course, the corpses of their friends and family. No one paid Draco any heed as he slipped into the Great Hall and made his way through the crowd. Neither Harry, Weasley nor Granger were anywhere to be seen, so Draco stepped out into the grounds, staring out at the trees he had vanished into this time last year.
He watched as Longbottom returned again and again to collect the bodies and marvelled at the change in the timid, talentless boy who had managed to melt a cauldron in every Potions lesson. Draco didn’t dare approach him, but from a distance he was able to cast Feather-Light Charms on the corpses and even Levitate a few so they could be easily transported into the hall.
His mind was utterly blank and emotionless as he recognised the faces of so many fellow students, though he knew their vacant stares would stay with him for as long as he lived.
****
Whether he had fallen into an uneasy sleep or lost consciousness, Draco couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn he had felt the brush of slippery fabric against his skin. Instantly alert again, Draco cursed himself for not remembering that Harry was probably making use of his Invisibility Cloak to conceal himself from view.
With a start, Draco became aware of a wave of black emerging from the forest and to his horror, he realised that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were heading towards the school. He fleetingly considered running inside to warn everyone when Voldemort’s voice, magically magnified, swelled through the grounds,
“Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.
The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared.”
Even as the words echoed in Draco’s ears, he was dismissing them as another of Voldemort’s lies, but the mass of Death Eaters drew closer and he saw Hagrid being pushed forward. Behind Draco the remaining students, professors and members of the Order flooded onto the castle steps and fanned out.
Voldemort continued to approach and Draco caught sight of a bundle in the gamekeeper’s arms, the pale skin and black hair of -
NO!
How could this have happened? It couldn’t be real; surely it was just an illusion, a clever deceit of Voldemort to sway the outcome of the war in his favour.
Hagrid’s face was streaming with tears, and the crowd on the steps took a sharp intake of breath. Draco’s jaw slackened and his mouth hung open, his eyes widened as he struggled to make sense of what he saw.
It was undeniably Harry lying in Hagrid’s arms.
Harry’s dead body........Harry’s body........dead..........
Draco swayed and he was unable to tear his gaze away from the face he had come to know so intimately. Around him, the crowd began to hurl insults at Voldemort, swearing that Harry had beaten him, that Harry wasn’t dead, that they hadn’t lost the battle.
Out of nowhere, Longbottom ran forward and Bellatrix laughed, cold and deranged. Draco was unable to see exactly what happened, but suddenly Voldemort was igniting the Sorting Hat on Longbottom’s head. From the forest, a giant thundered towards them and the crowd scattered.
Draco pushed his way forward, hell bent on retrieving Harry’s body and preventing him from being trampled on, but the battle had recommenced and he was forced back inside the castle. Crushed against students and Death Eaters alike, Draco was carried along with the crowd towards the Great Hall.
He tried in vain to turn back and craned his neck over the sea of people in an attempt to see what had happened to Harry. All around him duels were breaking out and he threaded his way through the knots of people, casting Shield Charms left, right and centre as the light of a thousand deadly curses flashed about the hall.
Draco caught sight of his aunt falling at Weasley’s mother’s hand, finally beaten after inflicting irreparable damage on the Wizarding World, and felt a peculiar numbness steal over his body. Nearby, he heard his parents screaming his name and they raced towards him, heedless of the fatal spells being shot over their heads.
Reunited with their son, Lucius and Narcissa clutched onto him and refused to let go. Together they tried to drag Draco through the crowds and away from the danger, but he stood his ground, watching in despair as Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Mrs Weasley.
“Protego!”
Sounding as if it had been magically magnified, Harry’s voice resounded around the hall and Draco felt an immense jolt of shock as the Gryffindor stepped forward. He could hardly believe what he was seeing, and yet there Harry was; defiant, fearless and inexplicably alive.
Voldemort hissed, his soulless red eye betraying his complete disorientation at Harry’s inconceivable survival. They began circling one another; the crowd motionless as the two wizards drew their wands and spoke. Their words held little meaning for Draco as they spoke of something called a ‘horcrux,’ and he focused instead on every movement Harry made, willing each step he took not to be a wrong move.
With a rush of remembrance, Draco realised that the wand in Harry’s hand was, in fact, the very one that had been taken from him during the chaos at Malfoy Manor. The events of that horrifying day when Harry had been captured by the Snatchers had played repeatedly in Draco’s mind all year and he re-lived the scene again with practiced ease.
Each detail was burned into his memory as he recalled the devastating panic he had felt as Harry, Weasley and Granger had been unceremoniously shoved into the manor’s hallway by Fenrir Greyback. He had fought the overwhelming impulse to run up the stairs and hide, for the first time wishing that he was unable to set eyes on Harry.
When asked to identify the boy, who was clearly suffering the ill-effects of a Stinging Hex, he had very reluctantly stepped forward, afraid to look directly at Harry for fear that he would break down and give everything away. He had been forced to witness Granger’s torture and the scene still caused bile to rise acidic and bitter in his throat. Jeering at the girl at school for her brains and her blood-status had left no permanent mark on his conscience, but seeing her reduced to a screaming wreck in his own home was intolerable.
Somehow, with that remarkable ability to find a way out of the tightest of corners, Harry had managed to escape, but not before Disarming him and Disapparating. Draco had felt momentarily bereft without his wand, but the more he thought about it, the more hope he could draw from the fact that Harry was now in possession of something he had owned. It was absurd, but Draco had felt as if in taking his wand, Harry was now in a better position to win the war, or at least defend himself, even though he had a perfectly good wand of his own,
Now, as Voldemort and Harry confronted each other, Draco could only pray that his wand would be wielded skilfully enough to protect its new bearer’s life. With all his attention on the wand, the actual conversation between the two wizards had past Draco by and the sudden exclamations brought him sharply back to the present.
As Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, Draco closed his eyes, unable to witness the inevitable death that would follow. He heard Harry shouting the Disarmament Charm and the shred of hope he had felt at the boy’s miraculous return evaporated. The silence in the hall that followed the casting of the spells seemed to confirm his worst nightmare and it was only when a deafening roar tore the air that he dared open his eyes.
The watching crowd had swarmed forward, embracing one another and sobbing unashamedly. Utterly confused, Draco stared around in wonder, trying to make sense of the sudden change of atmosphere. His parents retreated to an unoccupied corner, ill at ease in the celebrations and as a group of people parted, Draco caught sight of hollow shell of the most feared Dark wizard of the age.
He sat down on a bench with a thump, unsure whether he should be joining in with the masses of cheering students or surrendering himself to their mercy. Above the babbling chatter, the clear, unmistakeable voice of Loony Lovegood announced,
“Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!”
Draco’s head turned along with the rest as they stared in the direction of her pointing finger, so he was caught unawares when Harry’s voice spoke quietly,
“Will you come with me?”
Lucius and Narcissa jumped as they also heard him speak, and they stared around them in alarm as Harry remained out of sight. Draco knew that he must be hiding beneath the Invisibility Cloak, as usual wanting no part in the attention he usually received, and extracted himself from his seat between his parents. They protested when he hurried out of the hall, but Draco didn’t look back as Harry pulled him under the Cloak and guided him up the stairs.
Evidence of the battle was unavoidable as they travelled through the deserted school and more than once they had to take a different route as crumbled walls blocked their path. Draco had no idea where exactly Harry was taking him, walking in a daze as the outcome of the battle sunk in.
Eventually, Harry stopped and Draco realised that they were standing beside the very same plinth which they had sat on all that time ago after the fateful Quidditch match. The portraits lining the walls were devoid of figures, so Harry removed the cloak and sat, motioning for Draco to follow his example.
For a while neither of them spoke, and Draco struggled to think of a way to put into words the tumultuous emotions he was experiencing. Glancing sideways, he saw that Harry was staring contemplatively ahead, appeared to be in deep thought. Draco took this opportunity now that he was no longer fighting for his life to properly observe the other boy.
Harry seemed to have grown, not in terms of height, but in a very different sense. He appeared somehow more mature, more adult and not only because a dusting of black stubble had grown along his jaw. Draco felt rather intimidated in his presence and in awe of the Gryffindor until Harry spoke thoughtfully, twirling the wand between his fingers,
“Do you remember when we first met?”
Draco had expected recriminations, demands that he explain himself and suffer the consequences of his actions, not casual reminiscing. He stammered as he replied,
“Er.......yes, it was on the Hogwarts Express.......no........in Madam Malkin’s!”
“You were the first wizard of my own age I ever met and I hated you from then on.”
This admission came as a shock, though really, it was entirely unsurprising. Draco recalled with a twist of embarrassment how even at eleven, he had been an arrogant bully.
Harry continued, though his tone had become extremely awkward,
“Last year it changed.........I don’t know what it was, but suddenly I could see you in a different light as you struggled with the responsibility Voldemort had given you.........I pitied you and even though we were both dealing with different burdens, I felt as if you were the one person who could understand how hard it was meet everyone’s expectations.”
Draco felt a wave of shame wash over him and stood up abruptly, moving to one the windows and staring unseeingly out at the grounds. He couldn’t look at Harry as he spoke, his thoughts being difficult enough to express without meeting the other boy’s eyes.
“Why are you here with me, Harry? All your friends, your supporters, everyone who had stuck with you from the beginning are down in the hall. You should be with them, not with a......traitor.”
He spat the last word out with painful remorse, the guilt he had been feeling ever since he had first admitted his feelings for Harry to himself coming crashing down on him. His hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep the tears at bay. It was difficult enough expressing how regretful he was, without openly breaking down about it.
Unbeknownst to him, Harry had risen from his seat on the plinth and stood next to him. He spoke quietly, his breath warm against Draco’s cheek,
“You’re right: you are a traitor.” The confirmation hit Draco with devastating force and he shrunk away from Harry. Unperturbed, the other boy continued, “You were sucked into Voldemort’s circle, you acted despicably as you tried to do his bidding, you attempted to murder Dumbledore, but you never acted as if you enjoyed any of it.”
Harry brushed his hand against Draco’s, trying to link their fingers together. Draco didn’t resist the gesture and instead, turned away from the window to face Harry, possessed with an intense desire to explain himself. He was still unable to meet the distinctive green eyes and focused on Harry’s shoulder, his words coming out in a rush,
“I’m sorry...........I’m sorry for everything...............for poisoning your best friend, for being part of a plan to kill Dumbledore.......you have no idea how much I wanted to confide in you, how much it hurt to lie to you last year..........”
As dawn broke, the rising sun stained the sky blood-red and suddenly the distance between them had decreased as Harry drew nearer.
Clasping both of Draco’s hands in his own, Harry tilted his head back, gazing up at Draco.
“It’s over. Finally, after everything, it’s finished and we won.”
His voice contained a note of wonder, almost as if he was having great difficulty grasping the enormity of what he had achieved. Harry smiled with such pure, unadulterated joy that it tugged tortuously at Draco’s heart. He would have liked nothing more than to sink into the other boy’s arms and put the past behind him, but an uneasy twisting in his stomach held him back.
Draco took a deep breath as he tried to order his thoughts.
“Harry, I.......what happened between us last year..........it wasn’t a mistake, but I want you to understand that even though I intended to manipulate you, I couldn’t go through with it because my feelings were too strong........I never used you..........never...........I’ll understand if you don’t want anything more to do with me..........”
“Ron was right: you are the world’s biggest prat, Draco. Do you think I would have actively sought you out, brought you here alone just to cast you aside? Dumbledore always believed in second chances and it would be an insult to his memory if I didn’t learn something from him.”
Harry’s tone was serious, but his eyes contained no trace of condemnation, only a fervent desire for his words to be understood. He released Draco’s hands only to pull him into a close embrace. Hardly believing that despite his disgraceful behaviour last year, he had been granted forgiveness, Draco hesitated before burying his face in the untidy black hair.
How Harry had managed to cheat death not once, but twice in one day was difficult to comprehend, but for now, Draco felt no curiosity to discover what had happened, not yet at least.
Feeling the warm, solid body beneath his arms, Draco clung to Harry, crushing their bodies together as if he feared that at any moment, the other boy could be taken from him. It required very little effort for both of them to shift their positions just enough to brush their mouths together.
The ghosting touch of Harry’s lips on his own caused a swooping sensation in Draco’s stomach and he pushed forward, forcing Harry against the wall. Returning the kiss with equal passion, Harry ran his fingers through Draco’s fine hair and twining their legs together as though he too, was afraid of their reunion being interrupted.
Heart hammering, Draco drew back to take a gulp of air, Harry’s own breathing coming in short gasps. They both refused to loosen their grip and contemplated each other intently as their pulses began to slow. Draco carefully examined every cut and every graze on Harry’s skin, noticing the smudged traces of soot from the cursed fire they had flown through together. He realised that he must also look dishevelled, his hair falling into his eyes from when Harry had tangled his fingers in it.
“We can’t stay here for much longer; people are bound to come searching for me, and if they find us like this.....”
Disappointment etched across his face, Harry sighed, though made no move to escape from Draco’s arms.
“Does it matter what they see? I know my intentions were the very worst when I first started to become close to you, but if you have managed to believe that I’ve changed, surely everyone else will begin to realise the same. We shouldn’t be afraid of their reaction, not after everything we’ve been through.”
Draco felt a rush of thrilling elation as he pictured himself and Harry, openly and unashamedly together. Experiencing a brief stab of fear when Harry didn’t reply instantly, his worry was unfounded as a low, almost inaudible whisper reached his ears,
“I’m not afraid.”
Leaning forward again, Draco placed a delicate kiss on Harry’s lips, all the desperation from earlier dissipated as an unspoken agreement passed between them.
Draco knew that they would face a great many difficulties and a horrendous amount of gossip when they were found, but if they were able to get through war, torture and, in Harry’s case, death, this would be no more strenuous than a game of Quidditch and with an even more gratifying result.
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic and must know the sixth book inside out and back to front by now!