Christmas 2016 Fic: Reset (H/D, rated R) - Part 9
Title: Reset - Part 9
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #3: inappropriate Christmas carols #10: ice skating, and #24: sleigh ride, and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #15: candy canes and #16: light and dark (grey/black wolves).
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Reset - Part 9
♪ ♪ ♪ Just feel your blue balls jing-a-ling ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ Ring-ting-ting-a-ling too ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ Come on it's lovely weather ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ For a sleigh shag together with you ♪ ♪ ♪
Draco did a double-take. None of the teachers seemed to notice Seamus' strategically altered lyrics. He chuckled. Pansy would have appreciated it. Oh, and Blaise would have helped rewrite the classics. In fact, had things been different, Blaise and Seamus could have been good friends. Not for the first time, he wished they were here with him.
Still, had they returned to school, maybe he never would have become friends with this insane group of people that called Harry Potter their friend. In fact, it was very strange to be seated with some of them now, Merlin help him, making Christmas decorations, without Harry even being there. It went some way towards easing the ache.
"Malfoy?" Weasley sauntered up to the table and looked from Draco to the ornament he was currently working on, to Seamus, back to Draco. "Is this part of your master plan to infiltrate Harry's inner circle? Hanging out with Harry's friends even when he's not here?" Seamus fidgeted beside him but said nothing.
Draco laughed. "You got me, Weasley. It's the Slytherin way: manipulation through candy canes and glitter."
"It's not funny."
Draco nodded. "It is, actually. A little bit." He looked Weasley straight in the eye. "You see, you aren't the first person to question my motivation where Harry's concerned. Not even the first today."
Weasley snorted. "Hermione."
"My mother, actually."
That took him by surprise. Shock faded back to distrust quickly as he narrowed his eyes at Draco. "I suppose she knows you best."
Draco put down the ornament he'd just finished and brushed off the sparkles. "She suggested that Harry would be quite the ally to have."
Weasley's face darkened. "Did she now?"
"Yes, but -" Draco lifted a hand to slow the wheels from spinning inside that ginger head. "You see, she wanted to know why I'd suddenly become close to the person that, besides the Death Eater brigade, had irritated me the most my whole life."
Freckled fingers rapped a steady beat on the tabletop and he stared, as if to say, Well, get on with it, then. Draco was aware of everyone's focus on them.
"At first, she sounded so much like my father it scared me. I thought she was going to start telling me how to work Harry to my best advantage. And I lost it on her. I told her he was my friend and I wasn't about to use him. That I wasn't my father." He stopped himself there, realising the conversation had gone off on a tangent and he was starting to sound like he was trying to convince Harry's friend that he wasn't so bad. Or something.
Weasley looked at him warily. "And what did she say?"
"She was pleased to hear it, actually. I think she really likes Harry." At Weasley's skeptical expression, he added, "But in the end, I'm her son and she'll always be on my side, no matter what. Besides the fact that Harry deserves better, she was worried about the fallout to me if I did something so stupid and got Harry pissed at me."
"So don't be a tool like your dad, because it might come back to bite you in the arse?"
Draco thought of his father in Azkaban and pressed his lips together, doing his best to stay calm and not rise to the bait. "Something like that."
"Good advice, that."
Draco nodded. "Unnecessary, but good all the same."
"I'll give you a bit of extra advice to go along with it."
"What's that?"
He leaned in closely, his voice quiet but fierce. "You ever do anything to hurt Harry and it won't be his vengeance that gets to you first."
The intensity of Weasley's gaze and unyielding loyalty to his friend caused a clenching in Draco's chest. Weasley reminded him so much of Pansy in that moment that he ached with missing her. "Duly noted."
Weasley continued to hover and an idea came to Draco. It had been there since the summer, but he'd pushed it back for a more opportune time. Again and again and again. Really, he was just avoiding the inevitable. He steeled himself. No better time that the present.
"Now that we have that out of the way," Draco ventured, "could we have a word?" Aware that they were surrounded by rabid gossips, he added, "Perhaps we could go somewhere more private?"
Weasley seemed to consider the advisability of spending time alone with Draco. At length - because he deemed Draco not a threat or because he was itching for a reason to hex him, Draco didn't know - he said okay and they went off to a more private spot outside.
They passed a makeshift ice rink some of the Muggle-borns had created in the courtyard - another one of the social committee's efforts to foster collaboration. Why anyone would want to strap strips of metal to their feet and glide along ice was beyond him, but then there were some people who didn't like flying, so he supposed he shouldn't judge.
Draco cast warming and privacy charms, sat down on a stone bench, then took a deep breath. Weasley joined him, sitting at the opposite end. The contents of his stomach churned uncomfortably; this was going to be harder than he'd expected.
He just needed to spit it out. Now. "I need to apologise to you. Really apologise." Weasley merely raised a brow, giving not an inch. "This isn't easy for me, so I'd appreciate if you could just let me get it all out at once, and then laugh at me or hex me or whatever when I'm done. Deal?"
His face remained impassive. "Sure."
Draco's hands were sweaty despite the coolness of the air. He resisted wiping them on his trousers. "Right. So. I was an arse." Weasley snorted. Seriously? He couldn't even get a half dozen words out without a reaction? "I'm sure we can all agree on that. And it goes way back. Same on your part, I might add, but that's not the point. Safe to say we hated each other before ever coming to Hogwarts, yeah?"
Ron seemed to consider that for a bit before answering. "That's probably fair."
Draco clasped his hands together, elbows on his knees, and stared at the ground. "Our families, despite both being pureblood, were in complete contrast: Muggle-hating and rich versus Muggle-loving and poor. Each of us was taught to despise the other. That said, we went along merrily detesting each other for years. But then things became more serious and I made some bad choices. Some seriously bad choices."
Understatement of a lifetime. He took a few deep, fortifying breaths. Weasley was giving Draco the opportunity to speak and for that he was grateful.
"At the time, there were reasons for what I did. I'd been conditioned to believe the Dark Lord would be the saviour of wizard kind. The idea of being part of that movement was tempting, even tantalising. But then reality hit and I saw through all my father's rhetoric to what it really was: a power-hungry madman leading a group of followers that couldn't think for themselves.
"But by then, it was too late. My father was in prison and I was expected to pay the price for his mistakes. Pay with my whole family's lives. Or I could do this one task - this monumental task that the Dark Lord hadn't even been able to do - and save my parents. So I agreed and I took the Mark. I was such a fucking idiot. I had no idea what I was doing."
His throat was getting dry. He really needed a glass of water. He swallowed roughly and went on.
"Don’t get me wrong. Those were my reasons, but they aren't an excuse. There is no excuse for what I did and I know that. Better men than I have been faced with equally difficult choices and have made better decisions. But, as I say, I was an idiot. And you suffered for that. Katie suffered for that. Your brother Bill suffered for that. A whole lot of other people too. Not a day goes by when I don't think about that. And hate myself for it. All of it."
He chanced a look at Weasley, but he was staring off somewhere in the distance. Thinking of the past, perhaps? Draco followed his gaze and saw two wolves, one fair and one dark, perched at the edge of the forest. They reminded him strangely of Harry and himself and he idly wondered if that's how other people saw them: in such stark contrast to one another. They turned back into the forest and the moment was gone.
"Anyway, you didn't deserve what happened to you and your family. I let a wave of terror into this school and I wish I could get my hands on a Time-Turner so I could go back and fix it."
"Can't," Weasley said. "They all got destroyed in the Department of Mysteries."
Draco frowned. He hadn't heard about that.
"The night we -" Weasley didn't need to finish that thought. The night their fearless army of kids went there to rescue Sirius Black and Draco's father tried to kill Harry. Another shining moment in Malfoy history.
Draco coughed. He really did need that glass of water. Or some Firewhisky. Definitely Firewhisky. "Look, I have no idea why Harry gives me the time of day, never mind anything else. He testified for me and my mother, for Merlin's sake. My family has done nothing to deserve any kindness from him, yet there he is."
Weasley's head shot up and his eyes widened. Draco very nearly withered under his scrutiny.
"I don't deserve his friendship, but I'm Slytherin enough to take it. He's been a lifeline to me this year, and I don't even know why I'm telling you this instead of him. Whatever. What I'm trying to say is sorry. Sorry for all the petty shit before the war, but most of all sorry for the colossal shit show I caused in the year leading up to it and again during it."
Weasley scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. "I don't know what to do with that," he said. "What do you expect me to say?"
"Nothing. You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."
There. He had done it. Finally. Better late than never, he supposed. Draco stood up and with a wave of his wand cancelled the spells. A gust of bitter cold wind slapped him in the face and he welcomed it. Fuck, he needed a drink. He turned and started to walk back to the castle.
"Malfoy?"
Shit. Just when he thought he'd made a break for it. "Yes?"
Weasley put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked up to Draco. "I reckon Harry's got his reasons, and most of the time they're pretty good."
Draco's jaw dropped. Bloody hell.
"But fuck with him and you'll deal with me."
Part 10
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #3: inappropriate Christmas carols #10: ice skating, and #24: sleigh ride, and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #15: candy canes and #16: light and dark (grey/black wolves).
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Reset - Part 9
♪ ♪ ♪ Just feel your blue balls jing-a-ling ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ Ring-ting-ting-a-ling too ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ Come on it's lovely weather ♪ ♪ ♪
♪ ♪ ♪ For a sleigh shag together with you ♪ ♪ ♪
Draco did a double-take. None of the teachers seemed to notice Seamus' strategically altered lyrics. He chuckled. Pansy would have appreciated it. Oh, and Blaise would have helped rewrite the classics. In fact, had things been different, Blaise and Seamus could have been good friends. Not for the first time, he wished they were here with him.
Still, had they returned to school, maybe he never would have become friends with this insane group of people that called Harry Potter their friend. In fact, it was very strange to be seated with some of them now, Merlin help him, making Christmas decorations, without Harry even being there. It went some way towards easing the ache.
"Malfoy?" Weasley sauntered up to the table and looked from Draco to the ornament he was currently working on, to Seamus, back to Draco. "Is this part of your master plan to infiltrate Harry's inner circle? Hanging out with Harry's friends even when he's not here?" Seamus fidgeted beside him but said nothing.
Draco laughed. "You got me, Weasley. It's the Slytherin way: manipulation through candy canes and glitter."
"It's not funny."
Draco nodded. "It is, actually. A little bit." He looked Weasley straight in the eye. "You see, you aren't the first person to question my motivation where Harry's concerned. Not even the first today."
Weasley snorted. "Hermione."
"My mother, actually."
That took him by surprise. Shock faded back to distrust quickly as he narrowed his eyes at Draco. "I suppose she knows you best."
Draco put down the ornament he'd just finished and brushed off the sparkles. "She suggested that Harry would be quite the ally to have."
Weasley's face darkened. "Did she now?"
"Yes, but -" Draco lifted a hand to slow the wheels from spinning inside that ginger head. "You see, she wanted to know why I'd suddenly become close to the person that, besides the Death Eater brigade, had irritated me the most my whole life."
Freckled fingers rapped a steady beat on the tabletop and he stared, as if to say, Well, get on with it, then. Draco was aware of everyone's focus on them.
"At first, she sounded so much like my father it scared me. I thought she was going to start telling me how to work Harry to my best advantage. And I lost it on her. I told her he was my friend and I wasn't about to use him. That I wasn't my father." He stopped himself there, realising the conversation had gone off on a tangent and he was starting to sound like he was trying to convince Harry's friend that he wasn't so bad. Or something.
Weasley looked at him warily. "And what did she say?"
"She was pleased to hear it, actually. I think she really likes Harry." At Weasley's skeptical expression, he added, "But in the end, I'm her son and she'll always be on my side, no matter what. Besides the fact that Harry deserves better, she was worried about the fallout to me if I did something so stupid and got Harry pissed at me."
"So don't be a tool like your dad, because it might come back to bite you in the arse?"
Draco thought of his father in Azkaban and pressed his lips together, doing his best to stay calm and not rise to the bait. "Something like that."
"Good advice, that."
Draco nodded. "Unnecessary, but good all the same."
"I'll give you a bit of extra advice to go along with it."
"What's that?"
He leaned in closely, his voice quiet but fierce. "You ever do anything to hurt Harry and it won't be his vengeance that gets to you first."
The intensity of Weasley's gaze and unyielding loyalty to his friend caused a clenching in Draco's chest. Weasley reminded him so much of Pansy in that moment that he ached with missing her. "Duly noted."
Weasley continued to hover and an idea came to Draco. It had been there since the summer, but he'd pushed it back for a more opportune time. Again and again and again. Really, he was just avoiding the inevitable. He steeled himself. No better time that the present.
"Now that we have that out of the way," Draco ventured, "could we have a word?" Aware that they were surrounded by rabid gossips, he added, "Perhaps we could go somewhere more private?"
Weasley seemed to consider the advisability of spending time alone with Draco. At length - because he deemed Draco not a threat or because he was itching for a reason to hex him, Draco didn't know - he said okay and they went off to a more private spot outside.
They passed a makeshift ice rink some of the Muggle-borns had created in the courtyard - another one of the social committee's efforts to foster collaboration. Why anyone would want to strap strips of metal to their feet and glide along ice was beyond him, but then there were some people who didn't like flying, so he supposed he shouldn't judge.
Draco cast warming and privacy charms, sat down on a stone bench, then took a deep breath. Weasley joined him, sitting at the opposite end. The contents of his stomach churned uncomfortably; this was going to be harder than he'd expected.
He just needed to spit it out. Now. "I need to apologise to you. Really apologise." Weasley merely raised a brow, giving not an inch. "This isn't easy for me, so I'd appreciate if you could just let me get it all out at once, and then laugh at me or hex me or whatever when I'm done. Deal?"
His face remained impassive. "Sure."
Draco's hands were sweaty despite the coolness of the air. He resisted wiping them on his trousers. "Right. So. I was an arse." Weasley snorted. Seriously? He couldn't even get a half dozen words out without a reaction? "I'm sure we can all agree on that. And it goes way back. Same on your part, I might add, but that's not the point. Safe to say we hated each other before ever coming to Hogwarts, yeah?"
Ron seemed to consider that for a bit before answering. "That's probably fair."
Draco clasped his hands together, elbows on his knees, and stared at the ground. "Our families, despite both being pureblood, were in complete contrast: Muggle-hating and rich versus Muggle-loving and poor. Each of us was taught to despise the other. That said, we went along merrily detesting each other for years. But then things became more serious and I made some bad choices. Some seriously bad choices."
Understatement of a lifetime. He took a few deep, fortifying breaths. Weasley was giving Draco the opportunity to speak and for that he was grateful.
"At the time, there were reasons for what I did. I'd been conditioned to believe the Dark Lord would be the saviour of wizard kind. The idea of being part of that movement was tempting, even tantalising. But then reality hit and I saw through all my father's rhetoric to what it really was: a power-hungry madman leading a group of followers that couldn't think for themselves.
"But by then, it was too late. My father was in prison and I was expected to pay the price for his mistakes. Pay with my whole family's lives. Or I could do this one task - this monumental task that the Dark Lord hadn't even been able to do - and save my parents. So I agreed and I took the Mark. I was such a fucking idiot. I had no idea what I was doing."
His throat was getting dry. He really needed a glass of water. He swallowed roughly and went on.
"Don’t get me wrong. Those were my reasons, but they aren't an excuse. There is no excuse for what I did and I know that. Better men than I have been faced with equally difficult choices and have made better decisions. But, as I say, I was an idiot. And you suffered for that. Katie suffered for that. Your brother Bill suffered for that. A whole lot of other people too. Not a day goes by when I don't think about that. And hate myself for it. All of it."
He chanced a look at Weasley, but he was staring off somewhere in the distance. Thinking of the past, perhaps? Draco followed his gaze and saw two wolves, one fair and one dark, perched at the edge of the forest. They reminded him strangely of Harry and himself and he idly wondered if that's how other people saw them: in such stark contrast to one another. They turned back into the forest and the moment was gone.
"Anyway, you didn't deserve what happened to you and your family. I let a wave of terror into this school and I wish I could get my hands on a Time-Turner so I could go back and fix it."
"Can't," Weasley said. "They all got destroyed in the Department of Mysteries."
Draco frowned. He hadn't heard about that.
"The night we -" Weasley didn't need to finish that thought. The night their fearless army of kids went there to rescue Sirius Black and Draco's father tried to kill Harry. Another shining moment in Malfoy history.
Draco coughed. He really did need that glass of water. Or some Firewhisky. Definitely Firewhisky. "Look, I have no idea why Harry gives me the time of day, never mind anything else. He testified for me and my mother, for Merlin's sake. My family has done nothing to deserve any kindness from him, yet there he is."
Weasley's head shot up and his eyes widened. Draco very nearly withered under his scrutiny.
"I don't deserve his friendship, but I'm Slytherin enough to take it. He's been a lifeline to me this year, and I don't even know why I'm telling you this instead of him. Whatever. What I'm trying to say is sorry. Sorry for all the petty shit before the war, but most of all sorry for the colossal shit show I caused in the year leading up to it and again during it."
Weasley scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. "I don't know what to do with that," he said. "What do you expect me to say?"
"Nothing. You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."
There. He had done it. Finally. Better late than never, he supposed. Draco stood up and with a wave of his wand cancelled the spells. A gust of bitter cold wind slapped him in the face and he welcomed it. Fuck, he needed a drink. He turned and started to walk back to the castle.
"Malfoy?"
Shit. Just when he thought he'd made a break for it. "Yes?"
Weasley put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked up to Draco. "I reckon Harry's got his reasons, and most of the time they're pretty good."
Draco's jaw dropped. Bloody hell.
"But fuck with him and you'll deal with me."
Part 10