Author: Sparkle Itamashii
Title: Good Luck
Warnings: Respect the rating. Please see my profile for details.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters, plot, and settings are NOT MINE.
Good Luck
I came to tell you good luck.
You deserve at least that much from me. I spent six and a half years terrorizing you and your friends. I tried to make your life hell every step of the way and I think it worked. I think you really do hate me now.
I know you didn't used to hate me. Not at first. No, for a while you thought you could save me still. Every time I saw you I saw loathing in your eyes but there was always pity tainting it. More than that there was hope. You wanted to change me. You wanted to make me better.
I wish I could tell you that you have.
When I met you, I believed what my father said about you. I believed that I could bring you over to our side and that with my family guiding you it would be easy to rule the pitiful creature the wizarding world had become. The second you turned down my invitation of friendship, though, I knew you were different. I knew that everyone that thought they knew you really didn't and that no one was ever going to make you do anything you didn't already want to do.
Conviction like that is a rare trait, Harry.
I really did want to be your friend. Even back then you were special. The difference between you and everyone else was an almost tangible entity. Something about you drew people to you like moths to a flame. Expect instead of burning them you gave them light. You saved them, sheltered them; protecting them from the evil in the world.
Protecting them from me.
Oh, did I ever hate you bitterly for turning down my offer. It was a short lived rage because it had no real foundation. I'd acted inappropriately and you reacted in kind. I know that now. I've known for a long time. I wanted to apologize, start over; try again. I wanted to give being friends another shot, even though we hadn't really had a shot in the first place.
It never could have happened, though.
My dad hated you more than I ever could. Don't get me wrong- you were the bane of my existence when I was eleven. But things started to change second year. I thought it was great that the heir of Slytherin was coming around in second year but then again I was twelve. The reasoning skills of a twelve year old are less than admirable. I did find out what my father had done. When he came home without Dobby he was furious and I overheard the entire plan while he was informing my mother of its failure.
I lost a lot of respect for him that day and I think that was when I started to reconsider hating you quite as much. What my dad had done… people could have gotten seriously hurt. With the way the basilisk was slithering about the school it could have been anyone. It could have been me. But father cared so much about getting you that I guess he was willing to risk it; to risk me.
You wouldn't do something like that, would you? Hurt people to get what you want… Not on purpose anyway. You don't have to, I suppose. People would gladly lay their lives down for you, even if you never asked. Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and even Dumbledore; Cedric and your godfather already did, didn't they? Back when Cedric was killed I tried to convince myself it was because he didn't know what he was getting himself into, getting tangled up with you. Except I knew then and I know now that he would most likely do it again.
As odd as it sounds, I hated you for other people's loyalty.
Third year was when I started changing, I think. Not outwardly; I could never change outwardly. But I did realize a lot of things about the world. Mind you that the reasoning powers of a thirteen year old aren't a whole lot better than that of a twelve year old, but at least I'd found the right path. You know I didn't take it, but at least I knew where it was.
You know I wasn't really hurt very badly by Buckbeak when that whole mess started. I don't know exactly why I made such a huge deal of it. Maybe I felt that if I could draw attention to that then less attention would be paid to what was happening with… well, you know who. I think it turned out for the better in the end, though, because if Buckbeak hadn't been kept around after that lesson how on earth would your Godfather have gotten away from everyone chasing him? I saw it, you know. I saw him fly Buckbeak off the grounds that eve.
I never told a soul.
Fourth year was a mess all around. I'll forgive you the ferret incident because 'Moody' was completely insane. In a way I was kind of glad for what he did- I'd done some awful things to you and your friends that really kept going unpunished. It's not that I wanted to be punished so much as that I wanted to know that I was still doing what was wrong because if it was wrong then that meant no one would figure out what I really thought.
I couldn't afford to let anyone discover that I was beginning to respect you.
Fifth year was one of the worst. That lady came in and screwed the entire school over like it was nothing. She wasn't even working with the Dark Lord and she did a better job of it than I think he's managed. Imagine if he knew I thought like that… Even if it is the truth.
Did I ever tell you that I knew about Dumbledore's Army from day one? Not everyone in it was as loyal to you as you thought. Everyone reported to me first, before taking it to Umbridge, though. I didn't want to have to turn you in, Harry. I wanted to see you train those kids. Something had to be done and… well, you are one of the few who could have done it. I didn't bust your group until I had to- I hope you know that.
But it doesn't matter now. I suppose if I had turned around completely in third year we could have been friends and I could have been a part of everything you did. Ah, but we both know that's not in my nature. I could never have changed like that, even if my father hadn't started paying special attention to me.
Do you know about that? About halfway through our third year here, Harry, my father started preparing me to join up with the Dark Lord. They were starting with a lot of the kids- that's why things were fairly quiet on that front. I knew it was a load of crock but… my father was still blood family and when you don't have a lot of real friends, family means a whole lot more. He said a lot of things, a lot of words that were supposed to mean something; words like 'destiny' and 'fate,' 'responsibility' and 'duty.'
He said a lot of things he didn't have to say because I would have followed him anyhow. He's taken care of me my entire life so that I've never wanted for anything he could give- doesn't he deserve some sort of loyalty in return?
But should he really have it if I know what he is doing isn't… right?
You'd laugh at me, to hear me say I thought so. I've never displayed a very strong knowledge of right and wrong but I do know. Just because I ignore the rules doesn't mean I don't know them. Does that make me any worse than my father? Perhaps we really do deserve everything we've found.
I guess that doesn't really matter either.
I've made a decision and I have to stick with it.
My dad… he's waiting at the front gate so I can't stay much longer. I left Greg and Vincent in the entrance hall- told them I left something behind. I did leave something behind, Harry, but you're something I'll never be able to bring along anyway.
I can't take you with me. I can't explain everything to you.
But I had to come here. I had to… say something. I couldn't just leave without…
I've known where your dorms were since the end of third year. I almost always knew the password. I know it now. The Fat Lady isn't even in her portrait at the moment. Maybe she is staying the night at a friend's. If she were here, do you think she would let me in, even if I had the password? She's bound to recognize me. I've spent enough nights standing against the opposite wall, thinking. We never spoke but I think she knew I was a Slytherin. I wonder if she hates me, too. I wonder if she will when she finds out where I've gone.
It's going to be so hard to leave.
I think I'm actually going to miss you; I know I will miss the idea of you. My life only has a few constants. You were one of them, did you know? We've bickered and fought and dueled and argued and knocked each other senseless for the past six and a half years but I can't help thinking that no matter how much we did all of that we were always here. Together. You were always here and I was always here and now… I will be gone and you won't be a constant anymore.
Where are you? I know you're not sleeping. I'm late because I came here- the least you could do is meet me.
They're going to wonder where I've been all this time. Can you imagine what they would say if I told them where I was? My father would suffer a heart attack at the knowledge that I came to the Griffindor dorms. I can imagine his expression if I were to tell him I went to see Harry Potter and that's why I was late.
"Malfoy…?" Your voice echoes politely in the complete silence but there is nothing polite about the accusation in your voice.
So you came after all. I knew you weren't in bed.
"What are you doing out so late?"
Your tone implies that I'm the only one out when he shouldn't be… I should remind you that I'm a prefect; I'm allowed to be here. But I don't know if I have the strength to act like I'm supposed to act, Harry. I'll speak with real feelings and ruin seven years of work if I open my mouth…
"I should be asking you the same thing." The ire in my voice is clearly false but there's no way I can muster the strength of will to hurt you. Not when I know what they have planned for you. Not when I know what I'm going to have to do to you.
This is… I don't know why I actually came here. There is no way to explain so that you'd understand. I can't erase the past and even with all your power and skill… neither can you. So much has happened, most of it wrong and I'm sure you won't forget that when the time comes. As bad as it was… as bad as it still is I don't want to forget.
But I do hope that someday you'll find a way to forgive.
I stay where I am, expecting that you will have something more to say but it seems you haven't got the words either. That's okay. I didn't think you would. I turn away, ready to leave. I don't want to meet my father. I don't want to follow the path I've chosen but I'd chosen it and now I was walking.
Your voice tentatively breaks the silence. "Wait."
I can't. I can't wait for you. Don't you understand? If I wait, if I stop now… I might never leave. I have to keep moving or else-
"Draco."
Please don't, Harry. Not now. Don't start that now.
"Please."
Your voice catches on the hope you have- do you know how dangerous it is to show emotion to the enemy? Do you know that they will show you no mercy?
But I can't seem to resist because I've halted where I stand and now I'm waiting. I'm waiting just like you wanted so what have you got to say? What is so important that you feel it's necessary to start trying now? It's too late, Harry- my father's at the gate and he'll come looking if I stay any longer.
"What do you want, Potter." I will not turn around, I will not turn around, Iwillnotturnaround… "Fancy losing some house points tonight?" Why does my voice sound so cold?
I can feel your eyes on me even though I can't see you. I know the look you are giving me and I don't want to see it. I don't want to have to see that indignant almost hurt expression, the one that so clearly tells me how little you think of my actions and how you think I could change. I don't want your hope, Harry Potter. Save it for someone who knows what to do with it. Someone who can make a difference. Someone who can save me because I am not strong enough to save me from myself.
"Whatever." Your voice is barely above a breath; have you given up yet? Please don't. Please don't ever give up, don't ever surrender. Don't ever let us win.
I know you can't leave because the Fat Lady isn't back in her portrait so I guess that means it is up to me to take the first step. I can't seem to move, though, as if something invisible holds me frozen. Part of me wants to go to my father but the rest… I can't disappear just yet. This is my last chance; the last time I'm ever going to be able to speak civilly to you. The last time I'm ever going to stand before you without having to try and take your life.
I'd hate to ruin almost seven years of work but… I'd hate it more to leave without letting you know.
"Seven years," I manage finally. "For seven years we've been at each others' throats." I cast a glance over my shoulder, glad that I cannot really see you now. "We've been rivals before now, Harry, but not anymore. Not after tonight."
"What's tonight?"
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can never tell you that I'm sorry, but I am.
"The Dark Lord is marking his followers tonight." I face the hallway again because I don't want to see the betrayal there. Did you honestly think that there was any way I would remain unmarked? Do you think there was anything Dumbledore could have possibly done to stop this? "After tonight we won't be rivals anymore."
"We'll be enemies."
You sound so much like you want to hate me for it but I don't think you do. I don't think you hate me like you want. Maybe there is some part of you that understands. I wish you wouldn't. If you hate me then no one will know and we'll both be better off; safer. The Death Eaters would have my hide if they knew I thought like I do. They have me now and that's how it's got to be and you've just got to understand that.
There was nothing you could have done so you shouldn't worry about it…
…But I know you will anyway.
I nod, closing my eyes. "Yeah."
Do you hate me now? I hope you do because as much as I have hurt you and hated you in the past I know I couldn't kill you. Even if I had the power I couldn't kill you- I respect you too much for that. I may not act like it because that would spoil the carefully laid illusion, but I do.
"How many others?"
Are you asking because you want to know or because you want to tell Dumbledore? "Twelve from Hogwarts." I won't tell you that one of them was a Griffindor.
I wait for a response I know I'm not going to get. Good; it's better that way. I don't suppose you know… but I'd tell you anything you want to know right now. Ask me anything and I would tell you in a heartbeat. I gave into the weakness in me and lost myself to the Dark Lord and because of that I have no real loyalty to him. Ask me about his secrets. Ask me about his plans. Ask me who is being marked.
But you would never ask those questions. We both know that. You're too proud and your hatred for me is too raw.
I close my eyes, containing a sigh. This is how it should be, then. Hate me so that when we meet again you can kill me without regret. Hate me so that I won't have a chance to hurt you. Hate me so that you can save the world, Harry Potter.
My footsteps echo up and down the hallways as I move for the exit.
"Will you return?" You sound so uncertain, so wary.
I pause on the edge of the corner and look back one last time, allowing myself a real smile for once. Can you never hate someone completely, Harry? Not everyone can be saved, but I suppose truth is different in your eyes. I shake my head, maintaining my sad smile. It is the first time you've ever seen me really smile; is it a shock? You certainly look like I've caught you off guard. I hope this is the only time that ever happens.
I suppose everyone deserves a little hope now and then.
"You'll see me again." As much as I know I should want you to hate me completely… It's hard to want something like that. It's hard to truly wish anything bad on you when I know what's going to happen. I turn, openly leaving my back to you for the last time. "Not here, but you will." I smile faintly at the thought. "One way or another." My lone footsteps echo around me as I finally leave.
Good luck, Harry Potter. You're going to need it.
/End Good Luck/
Notes:
This sort of just came to me one night, don't know where it came from and I don't know why it struck me so hard but it really did. I guess it just stems from this giant soft spot I have for Draco. He's a kid that makes some bad choices in life, does some bad things but… I can always hope that it wasn't entirely with malicious intent. Right?
