Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Dark shadows slipped at the edge of his vision and a soft swish of robes was unmistakable. 'Not again' Draco thought, grinding his teeth. His scowl became a grimace as the swish swish of robes came closer and closer until he could barely stand it. It was becoming hard to breath, the air around him felt thick in his lungs and the walls all seemed too close. 'Not again, not again' harsh sporadic breaths tore from his chest. He whirled around, furious. There was nothing but empty air. Merlin, he was losing his mind.
"Stop it. I know you're there. Just stop it, leave me alone. Do you hear me! Leave me alone!" He shouted. Silence answered him. For a moment it seemed as if the shadow had indeed listened but then, long minutes later Draco heard it again. The swish was softer this time, he'd obviously been given a greater lead but it was still there.
He slowed his steps until the swish was closer again, until he could see the ripple of air where he knew a cloak should be. It was almost beside him. Just a few more steps and "Caught you!" he cried as he grabbed the cloak's end and pulled hard. A startled yelp and the ripping of fabric accompanied the reveal of one Harry James Potter.
"You." Draco snarled, rage bubbling just a bit too close to the surface. This had been going on for months now. Potter may have spoken for him at the trials but it gave him no right to personally police Draco.
"Hello Draco" Potter said, rather softly. He wouldn't meet Draco's eyes and seemed sheepish, as well he should, but this was so un-Potter like that it gave Draco pause for a moment. His eyes narrowed and Potter flushed, staring hard at the ground in front of Draco's feet.
"Listen to me Potter and listen well as I won't say this again. I thank you for your help to our world and to my mother and I but if you think that entitles you to follow me around like some human Dementor, tracking my every step then you are quite mistaken."
"No, I didn't mean…"
"No! Listen, Potter. That does not require your lips to move at all. You pulled this before and it didn't end well for either of us. We are out of Hogwarts, the war is over, I will not have you clinging to my steps around the Department of Mysteries like a dog in heat while I try to complete my internship. Work on your own you great prick! Fuck off! Leave!
"But Draco I…"
"I don't care Potter! We're not friends, hell we're not even really acquaintances. Leave me alone! Don't you get it?" Draco's voice dropped dangerously low "I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, I don't even want to be on the same floor as you but since we must both be here do me a favor and don't speak to me. Ever. Got that? Is that plain enough for you? Leave me alone and never darken my path again unless our positions dictate otherwise."
Potters eyes widened, taken aback. He looked shocked and crestfallen. He swallowed and gave a single sharp nod.
"Good, get out." Without saying a word, Potter turned and slowly walked away. The swish swish of robes became faint, at the end of the hall Potter paused and looked back at Draco who gave a short shake of his head. The air felt lighter and the walls didn't seem so close. He gave a deep sigh. Peace, at last, had come.
The days started to come and go easily. No one followed him, no one taunted him, and it was almost lonely. He almost missed Potter but he wasn't that daft. He barely saw another soul save for the morning floo trip between Hogwarts and the Ministry, lunch and the occasional evening at the pub.
Pansy greeted him for lunch as she had each day of their "8th year" internship and Draco hurried over to sit beside her when he spotted what looked like a waif curled up in the corner, Weasel and Granger on either side. That couldn't be Potter, could it?
"Of course it is Draco." Pansy answered, he hadn't realized he was speaking out loud. "He's in a pretty rough patch from what I've heard. Doesn't talk in class or on the job, I don't believe I've heard him say more than two words in weeks. Rather eerie, he did send apologies for being such a berk in our early years to our entire house claiming to want a clean slate and all that. Did you get one Draco? It's quite weird; I think he might have taken a few too many curses."
He'd tossed a letter from Potter on his desk two week ago, maybe that was it.
His eyes narrowed, Potter looked positively starved. It wasn't his problem, Potter wasn't his friend after all but shouldn't someone be paying attention? He was at school and at work with them for Merlin's sake. What if it was contagious? What if the Savior of the Wizarding world keeled over in his department. They were in the same department, Draco would definitely get the blame.
No he could not allow that to happen, not after he'd worked so hard to neutralize his own poor reputation. This called for something sneaky, something Slytherin, something... just as Potter like as Potter. Oh yes, this called for some good old fashioned Potter stalking.
Potter stalking, as it tuned out, was a rather boring job. He slept in the 8th year dorms, ate breakfast in Hogwarts at the 8th year table in the corner and had sausages drenched in maple syrup and pumpkin juice every morning. Only he'd mince it to pieces, chase it around his plate and poke it with a fork a few times just for good measure. It made Draco just the tiniest bit ill to watch.
He seemed to find the corner of every room, and of every seat. From the one time Draco had been daring enough to disillusion himself, he knew that Potter even slept in the corner of his own bed. The man was quite predicable. Potter rarely ate lunch, he didn't talk to much of anyone, he turned in his work, he seemed almost invisible as if he'd faded into the background and abandon the buzzing life of those around him.
Draco could hardly stand this Potter, he needed the old one back. The one that ate like a heathen and exchanged barbs with him in the halls, the one that always seem to do just a little bit better, just enough that he was always trying harder. At least then Draco's days had been interesting... and less lonely, though he refused to think that Potter was the reason for that particular feeling.
Every day he went to the Ministry from Hogwarts and disappeared into the room that held the item he would be doing his thesis on. Draco had a room too, and a door just like it on the other side of the building mind you but the same door. He should be in there now but he had a feeling that this room held the key. Each day Potter came out he look more tired, more pale then when he went in. Draco had finally gotten a talisman from Blaise to trick the entrance wards, now he just needed to hope Potter didn't see him following.
Potter's robe swished closer to his hiding spot and Draco held his breath. He released it slowly and followed him inside. There was a very beat-up once ornate mirror. It's shards had been carefully placed back into the frame and spelled into place. Draco approached from the side, not wanting to reflect in it even if he was disillusioned. Potter lay his hand gently on the broken glass and a murmured "Repairo" later the reflection of him being held by... by Draco! was reflecting in the glass. Potters low tone chant seemed to echo in the room, the mirror kept trying to splinter repairing its self each time the chant got loader.
Finally, it stayed in place as one stable piece of lovely glass, it's reflection clearer then Draco would have liked.
Potter's breath hitched and he fell to his knees, shoulders shaking. It took a moment for Draco to realize the man was crying. The cloth of potters robe ripped and large black wings suddenly obscured his view. Sleek, lovely feathers immediately began molting. The mirror once again began to crack until it was a mass of shards once more.
"Hopeless" he heard Potter whisper but that wasn't right, couldn't be right. Draco remember a time when he had felt the same. Before Potter had grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the fire he had been that hopeless. When Potter had caught him crying in that ill fated duel, he had been that hopeless. When the Dark Lord had held his mother hostage at his side, he had been that hopeless. Potter, he had thought at the time, would never feel that but here he was and Draco knew that tone all too well.
He approached quietly, looking at the reflection in the shards and was not as startled as he should be that he saw a young Harry Potter holding the hand of a young Draco next to the old Harry being held in the arms of a modern day Draco. It was more then enough to build upon and really, hadn't they always been there at the best and worst of times?
Draco dropped down behind the folded inky wings and put his arms around Harry's shoulder, pulling him into a tentative embrace.
"What, I don't understand..."
"Shh. Listen Harry," Draco said warmly, his voice crackling "We'll fix it together."