Hello all! Thanks for stopping by to check out my little story! A few things you need to know first... This story is a loose sequel to my story Learning to Live. Now don't panic if you haven't read that one, you won't be totally lost, though you might want to consider going back and reading that one. Its a marriage law fic of Hermione and Severus, and Draco and Harry play a decent sized part in. A chunk of this story will go back in time to LTL and show things from their perspective and then will continue on past the end of LTL. This first chapter won't deal much with LTL so you're free to read on without worrying about missing something. In future chapters, when there's something that touches on LTL I'll include a summary in the author's note of what happened for those who don't want to read the other story, that way no one gets left out. But for now, read on, and enjoy!
**special note to my LTL readers...so. Here it is. The long awaited Drarry sequel. I will admit that when I picked this back up, I had totally forgotten that I'd started writing a few pages of it back when I first finished LTL and when I discovered that, I tried to mush the two beginnings together and I'm not 100% sure about the results. Not to worry, their slapstick humor will surface in the next chapter, but go easy on me for this first one, yeah? Thanks in advance everyone; I hope I don't disappoint!
For the Best, chapter one
They had to be kidding.
They just had to be. There was no way he'd taken all those tests, done all that training, only to be paired with Harry bloody Potter for his Auror training. It just wasn't possible. No one would be stupid enough as to put them together on purpose, right? Their hatred for each other was well known, even to those outside of Hogwarts. There was no way they would ever be able to work together. Much less for the minimum year required for the Auror training. No. There had to be some mistake. Draco stormed into the Auror's offices with grim determination.
His boss's office was the last on the right. Until he reached it, he kept a sneer firmly in place on his face. The more people thought he'd insult them if they spoke to him, the less they spoke to him. Which was the way he preferred it these days. At the door his sneer deepened unconsciously. The plaque outside the door read Henry Henry, Head Auror. What kind of name was Henry Henry anyways? Certainly not a proper wizard name, that much was certain. He grimaced at the thought of his future being in the hands of a man named Henry Henry. With a sigh of resignation, he opened the door and stepped in.
"Ah, Draco, our newest recruit. What can I do for you?" The tall slim man smiled at Draco. To Draco's eyes, he didn't look like he would make much of an Auror. Maybe his height would give him some advantage, but he looked too slender to be very strong. His features were so plain as to be forgettable and his smile much too welcoming for someone in their profession in Draco's opinion.
" I think some sort of mistake has been made, Mr Henry-"
"Please," He interrupted, "call me Henry." His eyes twinkled with merriment and mischief. For a moment, Draco was reminded of Dumbledore and his heart twisted before he halted the foolish reaction and once more encased himself in his icy demeanor.
"Yes, sir. Henry." He refused to twinkle back at the older man. "I believe a mistake has been made. I just received my placement owl, and it seems someone has put me with Potter. That can't-"
"Oh that's no mistake Draco my boy. You see we put all the new recruits through rigorous tests to find out who is their exact opposite. That's the point, you see. You'll learn the most training with someone totally unlike you. Techniques you never would have tried, ways of thinking different from your own."
"But Henry, this won't work. I'm sure you are aware of the history between Potter and me."
"Well of course. I'm not sure there's a single person in the wizarding world that isn't aware of the history between you two. Its been public knowledge almost from the first moment the two of you laid eyes on each other!" Henry laughed heartily.
"Then you see why we cannot possibly work together."
"Not at all. I see why the two of you will make perfect partners."
"But-"
"I'm quite convinced, Draco," Henry cut in jovially. "You'll not convince me otherwise, so no point in trying I'm afraid. The two of you will make marvelous partners, you'll see. Now out you go, I believe you have orientation to be getting along to." He looked back down at his papers, effectively dismissing Draco.
Practically seething with anger, Draco fisted his hands and left the office before he could do something stupid without meaning to. Like threaten to tell his father on the Head Auror. He'd changed much in the time since the war had ended but old habits died hard. Just because he'd lost respect for his father, been disillusioned about his entire life and family, didn't mean that his first instincts weren't still to react in the way that had been ingrained in him since his infancy.
Draco headed over to the room where the orientation was taking place. There were only a few others who had passed all the tests and would be starting training that year. The trainees sat in uncomfortable looking chairs while their prospective trainers looked on from a standing position on the edges of the room. Draco took his seat and scanned the faces of the Aurors. Some looked bored, a few looked eager. Then he saw the face he recognized almost as well as his own. Potter looked...stoic. Of course he'd taken the news better than Draco had. Didn't Potter somehow just do everything better?
Everything had always come so easy to Potter. It was one of the reasons Draco had always hated the man. Had he ever had to work for a single thing in his miserable little life? It had all been given to him. Handed out simply because of the bloody scar on his forehead. And worst, Lucius seemed to have some kind of twisted respect for Harry. He despised him, of course, but the Dark Lord had marked Potter as his equal when he was only a baby. That meant something to Lucius. That he was an enemy to be feared. Draco would have given anything to have even that kind of hated respect from his father. But no. Nothing he'd ever done had been good enough. Even when he'd spent years trying to emulate his father in every way, doing things for him that no son should have to do for a father- even as far as nearly killing a man. All to get his father to pay even half as much attention as he did to Harry bloody Potter.
He could feel old resentment building in him and tried to push it down. He knew deep down that it wasn't Harry's fault that Lucius was a bad father. When he was being perfectly honest with himself, he knew that none of the things that had happened to Harry- not the fame, the partial treatment, the adoring fans- were things he'd wanted or asked for. Draco didn't want to know it, because he didn't want to see Harry as a victim, as a real person with feelings. But he did know...Harry would have traded all those things in a heartbeat to only have his parents back.
Accepting that fact had been one of the hardest things Draco had ever done. He hadn't wanted to see the good in his long time enemy. Hadn't wanted to see Harry as just a person, someone who felt rejection and fear and longing and pain. It was easier when he could see him only as someone to be hated. The enemy. But the war had changed all that.
It had changed Draco.
Despite his instincts still being to fall back on old habits, Draco wasn't the same boy he'd been. Maybe it was his father being sent off to Azkaban. Maybe it had been the realization that he'd been fighting on the wrong side. Maybe it had been seeing the selflessness, the courage and honor from people he'd dismissed as weak and inconsequential. But Draco had changed. His life view had shifted- as if the whole world had been turned on its axis and suddenly he was forced to look at things another way. He didn't like it, but the change was irrevocable.
Orientation ended quickly and the partners paired off. Draco grudgingly went to where Potter was waiting. He tried to keep the sneer out of his voice when he greeted the man who would be training him for the next year at least.
"Potter."
"Malfoy," Harry returned just as emotionlessly. They stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to do next. "Well come on then," Harry finally said. "Let's get started."
Harry took Draco to the desk they would be sharing. The blonde had yet to say another word to him and Harry couldn't tell if Draco was just giving him the silent treatment or if he was saving up all his acidic comments until when Harry least expected them. The last time Harry had seen Draco had been the day in court when the Malfoys had been charged. Because of Harry's testimony, Lucius had been sent to Azkaban. Anyone could hate the man that sent their father to prison...but Harry's testimony had also been the only thing that had kept Draco himself from Azkaban. How would he handle that?
Despite the fact that it was so easy to vilify Draco (honestly, he couldn't have made himself less likable unless he started stroking an evil white cat and practicing his maniacal laugh) but Harry had to admit that once he knew all the facts about Draco's life, he couldn't hate him. Draco hadn't been the one calling the shots. He, like Harry, had been swept up in someone elses war. They'd been made puppets for masterminds pulling the strings without their say. Harry never faulted Dumbledore for using him to do what needed done. But to have been a puppet for Voldermort...and worse, to have his own father facilitating that usury...it must have been a terrible burden to bear.
In many ways, they were two sides of the same coin. And when it came right down to it, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Draco. He'd been raised spoiled in things but starved for affection. All his life he'd fought to make his father proud and only earned his scorn. He walked the path his family had sent him down without a way out. But Harry couldn't ever let himself forget that when it had come down to it, Draco had defied his upbringing, his inclination and every expectation by doing the right thing. He'd been unable to kill Dumbledore, and at the end, he'd joined the right side of the fight.
He still thought the man was a prat, but Harry did have some respect for Draco.
One Week Later
Draco wondered if anyone would notice if the Golden Boy suddenly vanished off the face of the earth. Just 'poof,' and he's gone. No fuss, no mess, just...gone. He smiled faintly as he fantasized about the involuntary disappearance of the man in front of him. He had no idea what Potter was rambling on about, but he was sure it was some blather about good triumphing over evil.
"Draco, are you listening?" Harry repeated the question again when the first round didn't elicit any response from the blonde. Draco finally focused his eyes and blinked.
"Huh?"
"Were you listening to a word I said?"
"Oh...yeah. Good triumphs over evil, all that. I got it." He waved dismissively. Harry bit his tongue to keep from lashing out at his new partner. He had, in fact, been talking about the Auror office's policy on paid vacations. Harry let out a long sigh and shook his head. There had to be some way to get through to Draco. Harry simply had to find it. Maybe it involved a mallet and a ball peen hammer...
"No, Draco. That was not what I was saying." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten before going on. "Let's just skip over the rest of the policy briefings and move onto our case load, shall we?"
"Sure Potter, whatever you say."
"I do have a first name, Draco. I promise your tongue won't turn black and fall off if you call me Harry."
"There aren't enough Galleons in the world to tempt me to call you by your familiar name, Potter." Draco sneered the words and then mentally kicked himself for it. He'd honestly been trying not to antagonize Potter. But apparently trying and doing were two very different concepts. It would take some getting used to for him to not insult Potter with every other breath. He'd been doing it for so many years that now it was just second nature.
"Fine, Draco. Call me whatever you bloody well please. Call me Miss Harriet Potty for all I care. Just pay attention and don't make this any more difficult than it already is."
Draco bit the inside of his cheek so hard it nearly bled at the delicious thought of calling him Miss Harriet Potty. Apparently there was more in that be-scarred head than just Gryffindor martyrdom. Potter had a wit...who knew?
"Sure, Potter. Whatever you say." Repeating the line had the desired effect of making his point that he didn't give a damn what Potter said, as well as the bonus effect of making Potter's eye twitch. Draco laughed manically in his own head. It sounded rather sinister, actually. It was too bad he was one of the good guys now, because Draco would have made an awesome bad guy. If nothing else came from this terrible partnership, he would at least get some sadistic pleasure in finding out just how many times he could make Potter's eye twitch before he popped a vein...
On a totally selfish side note, if any of my lovely Harry Potter readers happen to watch the BBC show Sherlock, would you mind popping over to my ff for that, The Special One? I particularly loved it, but Sherlock doesn't have nearly the same fan base as HP (though its edging its way up there) so I didn't get nearly the review love I've come to appreciate on HP stories. Just stop by to say hi if you get a chance ; )