they say life is a battlefield
I say bring it on
Draco knows that in the long scheme of things, simple aspects of human existence, like pride and dignity are quite important. He knows that they're assets that are hard to earn, very easy to lose and they are more valuable than the breath in your body.
He also knows that once you've lost your pride and your dignity, there's nothing much left to lose.
And that is how Draco enters the Auror Academy, wand held in the back pocket of his faded blue jeans, meager belongings stuffed in a torn backpack with holes in his socks and scuffed sneakers on his feet.
With nothing left to lose.
Its a sprawling campus, a few thousand acres bigger than Hogwarts with century-old buildings and a well-kept lawn and it boggles his mind that he has been accepted into such a prestigious place. A place where only the creme-de-la-creme of graduates are given a chance to train. His knees are shaking a bit, only partly from the cold. Despite the chilly weather, he can feel sweat at the back of his head, clinging to his blonde hair and lightly trickling down his neck.
The huge Archway leading to the driveway is scary in itself and Draco stands there for a second, looking up at the huge awning, gulping a bit , before rummaging in his backpack for the crumpled piece of parchment. He carefully studies the words, shuts his eyes and thinks them with all his might . The sound of something creaking open makes his eyes fly open and he finds himself staring at a pair of huge iron gates, thrown open in front of him. He moves inside quickly, as though scared the gates may change their mind, once they saw who was trying to get it.
The parchment also has a small map, pointing out various buildings and he quickly traces a path to the main building, where all of them have been asked to assemble.
He makes his way to the reception, his footsteps echoing hollowly on the cement pavement leading up to the huge doors. Its pretty late and the middle of winter , so most of the paths are deserted , the snow piled neatly on the sides . His clothes are shabby, purely utilitarian , doing a very poor job of keeping him warm and he takes the last few steps to the entrance at a run, the small exercise heating his limbs marginally.
For a second, he's a little hesitant.
He isn't sure whats waiting on the other side and he isn't sure what he's walking into. All he knows is that he has no life outside this place. The post-war world is cruel to ex death eaters and Draco Malfoy topped the list of 'Shoot on sight Evil Doers '.
His hesitation is strong but short lived.
Nothing to lose, he tells himself, fingers curling around the doorknob.
"You have got to be kidding me!"
This from Ernie Macmillan , who Draco vaguely remembers as a Hufflepuff. He has a look of abject disbelief on his face, his eyes trained on Draco. Draco stares back evenly , not willing to back down.
Don't worry, you deserve to be here.
"Is he going to serve as our target or something? Do we get to punch his guts when we do well?" Ron sneers , disgust welling up in each syllable. Draco gives him a brief glance but keeps quiet. He can think of a dozen retorts for that, but he knows better. He knows that keeping his bones intact is a lot more important than keeping his dignity.
There are about fifty students in his batch, all of them men.
He recognizes a handful of them, some from his old school and a few from Dumstrang and Beauxbaton. The rest of them are just vague nameless, faceless figures, hovering in the background while he stays resolutely seated on the couch. Ron and his cronies are close by and they make no effort to keep their voice down as they express their opinion about letting a death eater train at such a prestigious institution.
As the insults continue, he looks around for a distraction .
His eyes land on a lone figure, lounging against one of the pillars, watching him.
Potter is dressed in expensive clothes. Designer jeans, a nice shirt and a very warm looking blazer. His hands are buried in the side pockets of his jeans and he had his entire weight resting on his strong hips, pushing into the solid pillar, his feet crossed at the ankles. Its a poised, classy pose and Draco feels the blood rush to his feet at the visual pleasure the entire scene gives him, his heart thrumming violently.
Potter has always been weirdly attractive , he supposes . The hair looks like a mop , of course and his glasses would look ridiculous on anyone else. The only saving grace is the angular slant of his jaw and the bright , bright eyes. They're positively luminous , deep enough to trip and fall into.
Potter continues looking at him, not joining his friends as they mock him but not asking them to stop either. Instead he keeps staring at him, a look of preoccupied curiosity on his face. Its like he wouldn't mind studying him, but he wasn't going to waste his energy in that pursuit. It makes Draco feel simultaneously honored and insulted.
They're allotted dorm rooms and also a schedule for the next day. When its time to pick roommates , he automatically assumes that once everyone is done , he would get picked by some poor sod.
To his shock though, halfway through, when Malfoy's name is called and he opens his mouth to say he has no preference, a voice rings out from near the pillar.
"I'd like to room with him."
Draco whips around in shock, his mind recognizing the lilting cadence of that voice but his conscience screaming in disbelief.
What the fuck, is the only coherent thought in his head as Potter continues looking at him.
"Alright. Is that okay with you, Mr. Malfoy?" The lady smiles brightly at him and he turns back to look at Potter. There's something almost challenging in his eyes, a sort of defiance , as though daring Draco to say yes and he gulps, not entirely sure what kind of deep shit he was getting himself into.
"Uh.. yeah . That's. ... That's fine." He clears his throat .
He isn't sure if he imagines the chuckle behind him. But he's pretty sure he doesn't imagine the heated gaze on the side of his head as he signs the necessary forms to get his key. Draco doesn't wait for Potter to get his key or luggage. Instead he hauls the single suitcase, which he'd sent in earlier , up the three flights of stairs leading to his room.
One of the academy rules is no magic inside the dorms and he's sure that's gonna make his life pure hell. When he finally opens the door to his room and stumbles in, he's panting and sweating.
Its pretty standard. A pair of cots , on either side of the small room, separated by a length of threadbare carpet. There's a window, overlooking the lawn with ugly green curtains and a cracked pane. The table on his side of the room is clean and only slightly scratched, the wood strong and sturdy. The closet is something they would have to share and Draco doesn't think that would be a problem. His clothes are few and he wouldn't mind leaving them in his suitcase. A small water filter stand in one corner of the room, its steady drip drip echoing through the space.
He goes back out and peers down the corridor, now bustling with other boys , moving stuff and calling out to each other.
"Hey!" A voice calls out to his right and he turns . A sweaty faced blonde with sad brown eyes stares back at him, hands around a huge wooden crate.
"Could you help me with this?" He asks meekly.
The boy looks like he's having a heart attack and Draco quickly moves to his side. The crate is very heavy and the boy's room is on the other end of the corridor .
He sighs in defeat , because the kid looks like he's a few seconds away from bursting into tears.
They barely move the crate a few more feet when Draco's ankle twists.
Painfully.
Its something he honestly doesn't expect and before he can try and right himself, he falls , butt landing on the carpeted floor and legs folding beneath his weight. The crate lands on his injured ankle, crushing his foot .
Pain, sharp and agonizing , shoots up his ankle and he's pretty certain its broken. But before he can pull himself up, a pair of arms slip under his armpit, pulling him up and away from the wreckage. He tries to turn and his senses are filled with the smell of apricots and green apples . His nostrils flare in delight and he tries to catch his breath.
"Are you alright?"
Its that voice again.
He struggles a bit, trying to get out of the strong hold but Potter merely tightens his grip.
"Hey, relax. I got you." Potter's lips are unnaturally close to his ears. He wants to wail at the unfairness of it all , but instead he settles for glaring back at the boy.
"Let go of me!" He snarls and Potter doesn't look scared or intimidated. In fact he looks mildly amused.
"You'll drop like a stone if I do." He explains patiently, tossing him around without warning. Draco yelps in surprise and sure enough , his injured foot refuses to accept his weight and he crashes into Harry's chest , face buried in his shoulder.
"Fuck." He swears, trying to straighten and then to his shock , Potter is swinging him up into his arms. The corridor is filled with hoots and wolf whistles as Potter carries him into their room, bridal style. Draco is pretty certain his face is a few seconds away from self combusting.
Potter places him carefully on the bed near the window and even picks out the pillow from his own bed, using it to prop his ankle up. He then begins rolling up Draco's pants.
"The fuck are you doing?" Draco asks, more scared than angry. Potter merely rolls his eyes and gently presses his long , soft fingers against his swollen ankle.
"What?" Draco blinks worriedly, trying to ignore the throbbing pain , threatening to drive him crazy.
"Its not broken. Sprained at the most. Hang on." Potter crosses over to his side of the room, where a pair of designer suitcases rest against the steel cot. He opens one of them quickly, fingers pulling open one of the side flaps and rummaging inside. He pulls out something and then crosses back to Draco's bed. Its a bandage of sorts, peach colored and rough textured and Draco winces when Potter wraps it around his ankle, tight and snug. He uses a few small pins to hold it together and then pats his handiwork.
"The infirmary doesn't cater to anything but life threatening cases. They're just gonna ask you to suck it up and put up with the pain. This should help a bit." Potter says blandly , pulling out a blanket from the bottom closet and tossing it next to Draco.
"Uh.. Thanks , I guess." Draco says awkwardly, completely thrown off by this new helpful Potter. Had the war damaged his brains? Weren't they supposed to be enemies or something?
Potter doesn't reply . Instead he flips off the light and flops down on his bed.
When Draco wakes up in the morning , its past nine . The sunlight from the broken window is feeble and warm and he blinks blearily, stretching his arms over his head and feeling the last remnant of sleep seep out of his pores. He blinks a couple of times and then sits up tentatively, flexing his ankles and checking for pain. It's a lot better, reduced to a dull throb and he swings himself to his feet, peeking a bit at the other bed. Potter is missing.
The sheets are neatly made and the suitcases are empty. He waddle walks to the closet and finds it neatly divided into two sides, with Potter's clothes arranged perfectly on one side. The other side is empty and Draco considers hanging his clothes there, but the prospect of his hand me down clothes near Potter's expensive ones, makes the tips of his ears burn.
There's a small note on his table.
No schedule today. Classes start tomorrow. Breakfast ends at eleven.
The handwriting is like chicken scrawl and he snickers a bit at that.
It takes him around twenty minutes to find the dining hall and when he enters it, its mostly empty. He fixes himself a plate of toast and settles near a window seat, his eyes taking in the snow covered landscape outside. Some of the boys are out in the park, walking in pairs or alone, some of them sitting on the stone benches placed all over the sprawling grounds. One of them laughs loud and long, the boisterous sound carrying over the barren lawns and reaching Draco's ears clearly.
He can't really remember the last time he's laughed like that. Maybe when he was in Hogwarts? Probably. He continues munching on his toast and then starts when the plate in front of him goes flying, crashing into the window and splattering jam all over the table. He looks up in shock and finds himself staring at a group of boys, a few years older than him.
"Look what we have here boys... One of the pretty little things that came in yesterday." This from the tallest one, who looks like he led the other two boys next to him, both of whom looked like they were too dumb to put one foot in front of another. His minds flashes back to his childhood. Did he look this stupid with Crabbe and Goyle?
He gets pulled back from his reverie by a hand on his collar, lifting him off his seat.
"you look at me when I'm talking to you, punk!" The boy hisses and Draco stares at the collar of his shirt.
"I'm gay." He says quietly. The boy looks like he's been slapped.
"What?" He rasps.
"I'm gay, so you better let go of me right now." He says evenly . Its almost funny how the boy lets go of him and retreats back , all in less than a second.
"What the actual fuck-" His friend mutters, running his fingers through his hair.
"And I'm still friends with Fenrir Greyback. Heard of him?" Draco smiles, leaning closer and this time they take three huge steps back.
"I can see you do. So run along like good little boys and leave me in peace." He gives them a shoo-go-on-now kind of gesture and they walk away hurriedly muttering to themselves in evident disbelief.
Draco picks up his tray and tosses it in the bin before moving out into the grounds.
He spends most of the morning walking around the place, pausing occasionally to rest his legs on one of the benches. Exploring the grounds feels oddly relaxing and he enjoys the solitude, pulling out his notepad once in a while to make small notes about each place. Its a habit from childhood and he enjoys reading back his first impressions about places.
Around One o clock he runs into Potter , who has something like a small box against his chest, held there by a strap that goes around his neck. He finds him peering out into one of the shaded areas of the grounds, his entire being focused on something Draco couldn't make out.
He hesitates for a second, wondering if he should disturb the boy , but his decision's made when Potter turns around and catches sight of him. He gets ready for the smile that Potter would no doubt throw his way, but to his surprise it doesn't come. Potter looks as vacant as ever, his eyes trained on Draco thoughtfully.
They stand like that for a minute or so, separated by a few feet of snow and Potter's gaze finally drops to his ankle.
"Feeling better?" He asks quietly . Draco shrugs a bit at that and then waits for Potter to continue the conversation. But Potter merely turns back to peer into the trees, dismissing him without a word. Draco feels an odd pang of disappointment at that but he swallows it down. He looks around for someplace to sit and finds a big rock, slightly flat at the top. He lowers himself gingerly, flexing his ankle a bit and then stretching his legs out.
It's unexpectedly comfortable.
They're in one of the secluded parts of the school, separated from the main building by thick woods and the lake. Draco pulls out his notepad and scribbles a few things down before turning around to look at Potter.
Potter keeps pulling the box up to his eyes, pressing down on some sort of a button at the top edge. The box then makes a small whirring sound and Potter uses his thumb to pull a lever back and then lets it go. The lever switches back to its original position and then Potter pulls the box back up to his eyes. Its a slow repetitive process and Draco feels brain dead just from watching.
"What is that ?" He calls out after fifteen minutes, his curiosity getting the better of him. Potter looks at him in mild surprise, as though only just realizing that Draco was still there.
"This? Its a camera." He smiles fondly at the box, before shuffling over to Draco's side. He carefully pulls the lever back again, raise it to his face and clicks. Draco blinks as some kind of shutter closes over the small round lens in front of the box. Potter reemerges over the box and grins at him.
"There. Now you're caught." He laughs.
Draco stares in confusion.
"Caught?"
"On film. Doesn't matter what you do or where you go. On film you'll always look adorably confused. " Potter laughs again and then turns around and walks off , whistling cheerfully. Draco stares after him in confusion, not sure what was scarier. The fact that Potter was obviously unhinged or the fact that he thought Draco looked adorable.
When Draco gets back to his room for his afternoon nap, he finds a pair of boys lounging outside his door, talking to each other quietly. He recognizes one of them as the boy with the crate while the other is taller and better looking, but unfamiliar. The moment they spot him , both boys straighten away from the wall and the taller pushes his friend in Draco's direction.
Crate boy's eyes look as sad as ever and he almost trips over his feet as he makes his way to Draco.
"I'm so sorry about yesterday. I was going to apologize but your boyfriend.."
"My what?!" Draco splutters in shock. The taller boy makes a noise of exasperation and moves to join the conversation.
"He means your roommate. Harry Potter. " The tall boy smiles at him, his eyes roving over Draco's body with evident appreciation. Hmm. Interesting.
"And you are?" Draco turns his attention to the taller boy. He looks fit and smart, think brown hair combed neatly and clear brown eyes wide and intelligent.
"Troy Davenport. And this is my roommate Gerald Frances." He shifts his head in the direction of crate boy aka. Gerald, who grins happily.
"Draco Malfoy." Draco shakes hands with both of them and feels a bit shell shocked. He hadn't expected to make friends.
"We live at the end of the corridor. Its pretty boring out here so if you wanna hang out... " Gerald's voice trails off and he looks helplessly at Troy who grins at the smaller boy.
"Yeah, Gerry's right. If you and your roomie ever get bored you can join us. We've got tons of video games." Troy says conspiratorially and Draco finds himself laughing.
"That sounds very tempting. I'll keep that in mind." He smiles at them and Troy smiles again before moving away , a grinning Gerald waving in his wake.
Draco lets himself inside the room, shivering a bit at the late afternoon chill permeating the confined space. Draco carefully settles down on the bed, fingers peeling the socks off his ankle and tossing it into the hamper near his bed. He pulls the curtain closed, in a bid to keep some of the light down and barely settles back against his pillow when the door opens and Potter shuffles in, shaking snow out of his hair.
He isn't alone though.
Ernie Macmillan is hanging onto him, his laugh loud and irritating. He stops short at the sight of Draco and sneers his greeting.
"I still can't believe you're rooming with -"
"We talked about this , Ernie. Either you play nice or you stay out." Potter says with a half smile and Ernie looks marginally abashed. He shoots Draco another look of loathing before leaning in closer to Potter and whispering something in his ear. Draco doesn't miss the way the bigger boy leans over the brunette, tips of his fingers brushing Harry's elbow and breath brushing the lobe of his ear. The scene is unbelievably anger inducing and Draco quickly rolls over, turning his face to the window and staring out.
Ernie hangs around for another ten minutes or so before leaving and Potter scoots over to his side of the room and peers into his face. Draco raises an eyebrow at the weird behavior and Potter flushes.
"Sorry, I thought you were sleeping...I just ... can I borrow your table?" He points at the table helpfully and Draco rolls his eyes.
"Whatever."
For about ten minutes , Potter went about tweaking the room , arranging the tables side by side and making sure it was completely dark. He them pulled out trays , jugs full of some liquid and an assortment of other things. Draco watches him as he pulls out a roll from his box and then sinks it in the trays.
"Potter?" He asks softly.
Potter hums a response to indicate he's listening.
"I know what a camera is."
There's silence and then Potter turns around, the tips of his ears red.
"Oh? I'm sorry ... I just..."
"Its alright. I only know the wizarding kind. Yours looks like a lot more fun." He says truthfully and Potter's ears turn redder.
"uh.. Thanks I guess. But they don't really move, so..." he trails off, scratching the tip of his nose with his forefinger. The sight is ridiculously endearing and Draco quickly turns over, burying his face into his pillow.
he's not your friend, he tells himself angrily.
Potter moves back to his work and after a few seconds, he starts humming a soft song.
Potter doesn't say anything else for the rest of the evening and Draco falls asleep to the sound of Potter's sweet voice.