Fic: "Seeking the Good", for kerrymdb
Title: Seeking the Good
Author: msmoocow
Recipient: kerrymdb
Rating: G
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, the Sorting Hat
Warnings: Clichéd premise, perhaps. A bit of sentimentality, as well.
Summary: Draco's never been one to overanalyse. A friend helps him out.
Author's notes: I want to thank my beta for helping me out, even with her unfamiliarity with the HP-verse. And massive amounts of gratitude to the mods of this exchange, who accepted this embarrassingly and inappropriately late submission. I also hope it's to your liking, kerrymdb!
Modly Note: Serious hugs to kerrymdb for pinch-hitting on top of writing her own fic! Not Hufflepuffly, but here's hoping you'll enjoy it nonetheless :).
Seeking the Good
"Run, Draco!"
And Draco ran, ran from the battle that raged behind him. Dimly, he heard Snape raging at Potter. Under any other circumstance, he would have taken pleasure in watching. Now, all he could think of was escape.
He looked left, glanced right, and dodged several haphazardly thrown hexes as he sped for cover. The castle was surrounded by chaos-where could he possibly find refuge?
Then, as if his feet had propelled him to a destination his head still wasn't sure of, he stopped in front of the Hogwarts entrance. He scowled; surely this smouldering old ruin wasn't the answer to his current problem. How could he run from Voldemort's vengeance amongst the very people who would surely want him dead? He'd nearly killed Dumbledore. He'd had his wand drawn, ready, with the power itching in his fingertips, and he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill him.
Blinking and panting heavily, he looked up. The heavy oak doors were slightly ajar, and he peered in. Surprisingly, he saw nobody inside, and he seized the chance to run unnoticed to the only place he could think of.
I need a place to hide from the Ord-from everyone.
As soon as the door shimmered into view, he wrenched it open and shut it behind him. He leaned against the wall-now made of slightly glowing steel, he noted-and tried to calm his breathing for a few moments, sinking to the floor in a quivering heap. He stayed there, barely moving, barely breathing, until a wheezy voice broke the silence.
"Bee in your bonnet?"
Draco whipped out his wand and sprang to his feet, heart pounding once again. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
From the windowsill across the room, a triangular mound quivered, then stilled. Draco crept closer, holding his breath and his wand steady and squinting at the formless shape.
Suddenly, the figure sprang up. It was a hat! Its spine (did it even have a spine?) stiffened straight, and the thick layer of dust that had coated it clouded the air around them. Coughing and sputtering, he managed to croak out, "Oi! What the hell was that for?"
"Well, it's not as if I can help being stuck in this musty old room. You try waiting, shut up for a year, and see if you don't gather enough dust to feed a famine."
"Sorry," Draco muttered, feeling ridiculous and resentful for apologising to a stupid hat. Leaning closer, he noticed-
"Hey! You're the Sorting Hat, aren't you?"
"I am," the hat replied. "Have you a question to ask of me?"
"No," Draco sneered. "I haven't got use for you." Again, he felt embarrassed. Was he actually referring to the hat as a person?
"Well," he-it, not he!-reasoned, "I wouldn't have been sent to the Room of Requirement if I wasn't required, you know."
"I-I don't need you," Draco insisted, growing slightly more hesitant. "What could I possibly use you for?"
"More than you probably realise," said the hat, smiling benignly. "At any rate, we never had a proper conversation during the Sorting. Would you like to try me on?"
"No thanks." Draco snatched the hat up and flung it across the floor with impatience. It didn't make a sound. Turning back towards the door, he tried to erase the hat's voice from his mind. He was reminded eerily of Dumbledore, and bit his lip against the disgust and guilt that threatened to escape.
"My guess-and when I guess, I am rarely wrong-is that you've recently had to make a grave choice. This is accurate, yes?"
He spun around angrily. "I thought I told you to shut up!"
"Perhaps not in so many words. I do think you'd find a nice chat helpful, though. I daresay we hadn't had much chance to chat during our previous meeting."
"That's because I'm a Malfoy," he spat, clenching his fists at his sides as he struggled to maintain not only his temper, but his composure as well.
"Is it? I certainly don't pay much heed to surnames when Sorting. Blood isn't everything, you know."
"Yes it is," Draco croaked. "It's everything. It's all I had, and now it's all gone. Because of Potter-" he grit his teeth "-the sodding Boy Who Lived, my father's in jail, our money and name mean nothing, and I've got to-to kill, or he'll kill people, and he'll kill me-he's got to kill me anyhow; I failed my mission, and he said th-that if I didn't do it I'd be begging for death, and I can't, you hear me? I can't!" The hat twitched again, as if preparing to speak, but Draco cut it off before it could say anything. "No. I won't!"
"All right, then. No need to be rude about it."
"Fine."
"So...what brings you to the Come-and-Go Room?" The hat formed another one of its odd, gentle smiles, and this only infuriated Draco further.
"I had to fulfil my duty for the Dark Lord, and failed, okay? I had to kill Dumbledore. Happy? Will you leave me alone now?"
"Most certainly not. You're not the only thinking creature in this room, boy. I won't let up until I find out why you need me."
"And then you'll go?"
"Nothing in the Room of Requirement is not required, so yes, I suppose I will."
Draco relented, and without a word, he grabbed the hat back up from where he had flung it, and grudgingly jammed it on his head, where the brim sank down to his nose.
Hmm. I'm seeing a lot of confusion. Mistrust, too. And fear, yes, I see plenty of that.
He would have rolled his eyes at this pronouncement, had the hat been able to appreciate the gesture. "Well-spotted. Not like I've got both sides of this damn war out for my blood, or anything serious like that."
You're wondering what to do, aren't you?
"Of course not!" he protested, getting all the more irritated. "I know exactly what to do, and that's to stay here until everything's over, and then Snape'll come fetch me, and I'll be going away from this-"
Not just now, though that's part of it. I'm talking about life.
"Life?"
Well, yes. Tell me, what would you have done if you father hadn't been sent to Azkaban? Would you have gone on to join the Dark Lord as well, or would you have forged your own path?
"That's a stupid question. Obviously I'd have joined him. I mean, it's what my dad would have wanted...right?" He was beginning to feel less and less sure of himself as the minutes ticked by, and this only served to duel his irritation.
But was it what you wanted?
"It never mattered what I wanted. Da--my father always said that Malfoys were supposed to-what was it-oh yeah, 'uphold the family honour by doing the world a great service.'"
So you were doing this for your father?
"What other choice have I got?" Draco said defensively, and let out a defeated sigh. "How else was I supposed to make him happy? And now I'm stuck here, hiding out in a dusty old room, talking to an ancient scrap of fabric that's spent the past Merlin knows how long psychoanalysing me."
Excuse me? the hat asked, sounding affronted. Ancient, am I?
"Whatever," Draco muttered, whipping the hat to the ground once more and massaging his temples with his fingers. "Just...just leave me alone for the rest of the night, okay?"
The hat seemed to wilt a little, or perhaps it was offering its assent; Draco couldn't be bothered with the emotions of an article of clothing, as he had much more important things to think about.
The silence grew, and as he leaned against the wall and drifted towards a light slumber, he heard a gentle voice whisper.
"There's some good in you, yet."
---
No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.
-- Mary Wollstonecraft
Author: msmoocow
Recipient: kerrymdb
Rating: G
Character(s): Draco Malfoy, the Sorting Hat
Warnings: Clichéd premise, perhaps. A bit of sentimentality, as well.
Summary: Draco's never been one to overanalyse. A friend helps him out.
Author's notes: I want to thank my beta for helping me out, even with her unfamiliarity with the HP-verse. And massive amounts of gratitude to the mods of this exchange, who accepted this embarrassingly and inappropriately late submission. I also hope it's to your liking, kerrymdb!
Modly Note: Serious hugs to kerrymdb for pinch-hitting on top of writing her own fic! Not Hufflepuffly, but here's hoping you'll enjoy it nonetheless :).
Seeking the Good
"Run, Draco!"
And Draco ran, ran from the battle that raged behind him. Dimly, he heard Snape raging at Potter. Under any other circumstance, he would have taken pleasure in watching. Now, all he could think of was escape.
He looked left, glanced right, and dodged several haphazardly thrown hexes as he sped for cover. The castle was surrounded by chaos-where could he possibly find refuge?
Then, as if his feet had propelled him to a destination his head still wasn't sure of, he stopped in front of the Hogwarts entrance. He scowled; surely this smouldering old ruin wasn't the answer to his current problem. How could he run from Voldemort's vengeance amongst the very people who would surely want him dead? He'd nearly killed Dumbledore. He'd had his wand drawn, ready, with the power itching in his fingertips, and he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill him.
Blinking and panting heavily, he looked up. The heavy oak doors were slightly ajar, and he peered in. Surprisingly, he saw nobody inside, and he seized the chance to run unnoticed to the only place he could think of.
I need a place to hide from the Ord-from everyone.
As soon as the door shimmered into view, he wrenched it open and shut it behind him. He leaned against the wall-now made of slightly glowing steel, he noted-and tried to calm his breathing for a few moments, sinking to the floor in a quivering heap. He stayed there, barely moving, barely breathing, until a wheezy voice broke the silence.
"Bee in your bonnet?"
Draco whipped out his wand and sprang to his feet, heart pounding once again. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
From the windowsill across the room, a triangular mound quivered, then stilled. Draco crept closer, holding his breath and his wand steady and squinting at the formless shape.
Suddenly, the figure sprang up. It was a hat! Its spine (did it even have a spine?) stiffened straight, and the thick layer of dust that had coated it clouded the air around them. Coughing and sputtering, he managed to croak out, "Oi! What the hell was that for?"
"Well, it's not as if I can help being stuck in this musty old room. You try waiting, shut up for a year, and see if you don't gather enough dust to feed a famine."
"Sorry," Draco muttered, feeling ridiculous and resentful for apologising to a stupid hat. Leaning closer, he noticed-
"Hey! You're the Sorting Hat, aren't you?"
"I am," the hat replied. "Have you a question to ask of me?"
"No," Draco sneered. "I haven't got use for you." Again, he felt embarrassed. Was he actually referring to the hat as a person?
"Well," he-it, not he!-reasoned, "I wouldn't have been sent to the Room of Requirement if I wasn't required, you know."
"I-I don't need you," Draco insisted, growing slightly more hesitant. "What could I possibly use you for?"
"More than you probably realise," said the hat, smiling benignly. "At any rate, we never had a proper conversation during the Sorting. Would you like to try me on?"
"No thanks." Draco snatched the hat up and flung it across the floor with impatience. It didn't make a sound. Turning back towards the door, he tried to erase the hat's voice from his mind. He was reminded eerily of Dumbledore, and bit his lip against the disgust and guilt that threatened to escape.
"My guess-and when I guess, I am rarely wrong-is that you've recently had to make a grave choice. This is accurate, yes?"
He spun around angrily. "I thought I told you to shut up!"
"Perhaps not in so many words. I do think you'd find a nice chat helpful, though. I daresay we hadn't had much chance to chat during our previous meeting."
"That's because I'm a Malfoy," he spat, clenching his fists at his sides as he struggled to maintain not only his temper, but his composure as well.
"Is it? I certainly don't pay much heed to surnames when Sorting. Blood isn't everything, you know."
"Yes it is," Draco croaked. "It's everything. It's all I had, and now it's all gone. Because of Potter-" he grit his teeth "-the sodding Boy Who Lived, my father's in jail, our money and name mean nothing, and I've got to-to kill, or he'll kill people, and he'll kill me-he's got to kill me anyhow; I failed my mission, and he said th-that if I didn't do it I'd be begging for death, and I can't, you hear me? I can't!" The hat twitched again, as if preparing to speak, but Draco cut it off before it could say anything. "No. I won't!"
"All right, then. No need to be rude about it."
"Fine."
"So...what brings you to the Come-and-Go Room?" The hat formed another one of its odd, gentle smiles, and this only infuriated Draco further.
"I had to fulfil my duty for the Dark Lord, and failed, okay? I had to kill Dumbledore. Happy? Will you leave me alone now?"
"Most certainly not. You're not the only thinking creature in this room, boy. I won't let up until I find out why you need me."
"And then you'll go?"
"Nothing in the Room of Requirement is not required, so yes, I suppose I will."
Draco relented, and without a word, he grabbed the hat back up from where he had flung it, and grudgingly jammed it on his head, where the brim sank down to his nose.
Hmm. I'm seeing a lot of confusion. Mistrust, too. And fear, yes, I see plenty of that.
He would have rolled his eyes at this pronouncement, had the hat been able to appreciate the gesture. "Well-spotted. Not like I've got both sides of this damn war out for my blood, or anything serious like that."
You're wondering what to do, aren't you?
"Of course not!" he protested, getting all the more irritated. "I know exactly what to do, and that's to stay here until everything's over, and then Snape'll come fetch me, and I'll be going away from this-"
Not just now, though that's part of it. I'm talking about life.
"Life?"
Well, yes. Tell me, what would you have done if you father hadn't been sent to Azkaban? Would you have gone on to join the Dark Lord as well, or would you have forged your own path?
"That's a stupid question. Obviously I'd have joined him. I mean, it's what my dad would have wanted...right?" He was beginning to feel less and less sure of himself as the minutes ticked by, and this only served to duel his irritation.
But was it what you wanted?
"It never mattered what I wanted. Da--my father always said that Malfoys were supposed to-what was it-oh yeah, 'uphold the family honour by doing the world a great service.'"
So you were doing this for your father?
"What other choice have I got?" Draco said defensively, and let out a defeated sigh. "How else was I supposed to make him happy? And now I'm stuck here, hiding out in a dusty old room, talking to an ancient scrap of fabric that's spent the past Merlin knows how long psychoanalysing me."
Excuse me? the hat asked, sounding affronted. Ancient, am I?
"Whatever," Draco muttered, whipping the hat to the ground once more and massaging his temples with his fingers. "Just...just leave me alone for the rest of the night, okay?"
The hat seemed to wilt a little, or perhaps it was offering its assent; Draco couldn't be bothered with the emotions of an article of clothing, as he had much more important things to think about.
The silence grew, and as he leaned against the wall and drifted towards a light slumber, he heard a gentle voice whisper.
"There's some good in you, yet."
---
No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.
-- Mary Wollstonecraft