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AN - The beginning two paragraphs are from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, from the chapter Sectumsempra.
Friends? Well. Maybe.
"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… it won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"
And Harry realised with a shock so huge it seemed to room him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying - actually crying - tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder.
"Go on," he murmured. "Have a good laugh."
Harry shook his head, stepping forward cautiously. "I'm not laughing. Are you… well obviously you're not alright. But."
"Oh, spare me the hero routine, Potter," Draco spat out, wiping his face clean with the sleeve of his robe. "I know you live to 'save' people, but you can't help me."
"Who says?" Harry argued, dropping his bookbag against the wall. "Maybe I can help."
Malfoy scowled. "Why would you want to?"
Harry sighed. "Because you're clearly scared of something, and I'm not stupid. What task has he given you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't," Harry muttered shaking his head. He bent to pick up his dropped bookbag. As much as he would like to have it out with Malfoy, it would bring nothing good.
What help could he possibly be if he ended up in constant detention for fighting with the Slytherin?
"As you were then."
Harry turned to leave, stopping when he heard a choked sob. He turned to find Draco watching him, his eyes full of sorrow and fear.
"You can talk to me, Malfoy. If anyone knows about carrying a burden, it's me. What's going on?" he tried, promising himself it would be his last attempt.
Probably better someone else - Madam Pomfrey or Dumbledore - handled the situation, but he thought perhaps Draco could be more like him that either of them would chose to admit aloud, and there was every possibility that faced with an authority figure, he'd clam up.
"He's threatening my mother," Draco whispered. "If I don't… if I fail… he's going to kill her. I can't let my mother die, Potter."
Harry nodded, leaning against the wall at a safe distance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Myrtle nod approvingly and float away.
"What is he making you do?" Harry asked, his curiosity burning. "I understand that you wouldn't want to go to Dumbledore, but maybe we can find a way to hide your mother."
"I have to kill… I can't. I can't do it, Potter, but I can't tell you. I can't."
"Don't ever be sorry you don't want to kill someone," Harry murmured. "I know how that feels, you know? I also know how alone you must feel, but… you're not alone. Not if you don't want to be."
"How does it feel to believe that everything will be alright in the end?" Malfoy sneered, but Harry could see the genuine question in his eyes.
"I have to believe that," Harry replied, stepping forward until he was leaning against the sink alongside Draco. "If I didn't, I'd lose all hope that this war will ever be over."
"You honestly believe you can beat him?"
"I believe that i'll try my best. I believe that if I don't, I'll die trying, because what else can I do? He's going to keep hunting me - I'm not just going to roll over and offer myself up as entertainment to him."
More tears slipped down Draco's face. "I'm nothing but a pawn. Nobody expects me to complete the job I've been given. They want me to die trying. I'm a pawn, nothing but a punishment for my father's failures."
Harry wasn't sure if Draco understood what he was saying, but he carefully rested a hand against the blond's arm.
"You're important too. You don't have to do whatever job this is. I'm not saying you have to follow me, or Dumbledore, or even the light at all. I'm saying you don't have to follow him."
Slowly, Draco lifted his arms, pulling the sleeve back on his left forearm. Displayed, in all its horrible glory, was the Dark mark, blacker than black against the pale skin.
"You sure about that, Potter?"
Harry blinked. "One mark doesn't make you who you are, Malfoy. So he's branded you," he waved to his scar, "he's branded me too."
Draco shook his robes back down, and glared at Harry. "If you tell anyone -"
"I hate to burst your bubble, Malfoy, but I'm fairly certain that Dumbledore already knows. He knows everything that goes on in this school."
"He'd have thrown me -"
"Not if he thought you could be saved," Harry interrupted. The two stood in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a while and Draco slowly pulled himself back together. Clearing his face of any evidence of his breakdown, he turned to Harry.
"This doesn't make us friends, you know?"
Harry smirked. "Of course it doesn't."
Harry sat on the crumbling steps as the sun set over the partially destroyed castle. He felt light, and yet heavy, his burden suddenly gone and yet replaced with the thought of rebuilding.
"So, you did it. Gotta tell you, Potter, I'm impressed."
Harry glanced to the side as Draco sat down beside him.
"Praise indeed."
Harry smiled tiredly as Draco nodded.
"You knew it was me," Harry said after a moment. "At the Manor. You knew it was me, and you didn't say anything. You were part of this too. I told you that you were important."
Draco nodded. "I remember," he replied quietly. "My father is going to Azkaban, and I have no idea if I'll be joining him. I don't know what happens now. Yet, for the first time ever, I actually think I'm okay with that."
Harry grinned. "I don't think anyone really knows what comes next. We'll meet it, when it comes, but… I don't think you'll be joining your father in the cells."
"No? I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, tried to kill Dumbledore. I'm not innocent."
Harry shook his head. "No. You're not. But none of us are. You think we survived a year on the run and a battle the size of the one we just fought, without getting our hands dirty. We've all got blood to wash away. We were kids, and we were forced to fight. I don't think they can punish you too badly for that."
"Yeah?" Draco asked, his eyes hopeful as Harry nodded.
"Yeah. If it comes to it… I'll speak for you. And your mother. She saved my life in the forest, did she tell you?"
Draco shook his head, eyebrows raising.
"She wanted to know if you were alive. I think she knew that the only way she was getting to you was as part of the winning party, so she lied to Voldemort's face and told him I was dead. That takes an inner strength that only a parent can feel, I think."
They sat silently for a while, as Draco digested the latest shook. The last few days had been full of them after all.
Harry stretched, standing. He held his hand out to help Draco up and after only a moment's hesitation, Draco took it, standing too.
"This still doesn't make us friends, Potter."
Harry smiled. "You think?"
"Well. Maybe."
Written for;
Showtime - 8. You Will Be Found - Genre, Friendship
Yule Ball - Write about listening to someone else's secret.
WC, Book Club - Sam Temple: (word) light, (dialogue) "Don't ever be sorry you don't want to kill someone.", (character) Harry Potter
Stickers - Magical Beings - Werewolf - Write about someone who carries a heavy burden
Insane House Challenge - 505. Crying
Writing Month - WC -1238
Dragon Appreciation Month - WC -1238
Ways to Say - 86. "You're important too."