Disclaimer: I own nothing, the world and characters belong to the amazing J. K. Rowling.
Slipping Through My Fingers
Draco had been looking forward to going to hogwarts since the first time he had held a wand. He had been merely four years old when he had snuck in to his father's office and taken the wand lying on the desk. Red and green sparks had erupted from the end when he had shaken it and he had shrieked with joy. He wanted it to happen again and again and again. The small moment of happiness and magic had been broken when his father had entered the office and seen Draco on the floor with his wand. His rage showed only in the thinning of his mouth and the clenching of a fist. What followed was not pleasant. Draco was sent to his room with a burning mark on his cheek and tears in his eyes. He sat on the floor, crying, as he heard his mother and father scream at each other in the drawing room on the floor below. After that, he was kept away from any wand until he was eight. Then his father had started teaching him, letting Draco hold his wand under strong supervision. But on his eleventh birthday he got the letter from Hogwarts. He was finally going to get to practise magic for real!
Standing on a stool in Madam Malkin's shop getting his Hogwarts robes, Draco looked up when the bell pinged, signalling a new customer, and saw a boy step in. He had black ruffled hair, startling green eyes covered by round glasses, and a handsome face. The only unappealing thing about his appearance was his attire; he was wearing clothes made for someone very much bigger than him, and they looked worn and dirty. Madam Malkin ushered him in and up on a stool. As she slid a standard robe over the boys head Draco thought of what to say.
"Hello", he said. "Are you going to Hogwarts as well?"
"Yes", said the boy.
"My father is in the store next door buying books and my mother is further down the street looking at wands", Draco said in a drawling voice, hoping to impress the boy. "After this I'm going to drag them both to look at broomsticks. I do not understand why first years are not allowed their own. I think I'm going to make father buy me one and then smuggle it in somehow."
The boy looked at Draco in a funny way, with something like a disliking recognition.
"Do you have your own broom?" Draco asked.
"No", answered the boy.
"Do you play quidditch?"
"No", the boy said again, looking confused. Draco wondered about this boy, he didn't seem to know anything about the wizarding world, and when a giant man knocked on the window, waving and making a fool of himself, the boy seemed to dislike Draco more and more as he pointed it out. He had just asked for the boy's name when Madam Malkin called that the robe was finished and the boy stepped down from the stool.
"Well, see you at Hogwarts", Draco said. The boy didn't answer or look back as he left he store.
Back at the Manor Draco thought back to the meeting in Madam Malkin's; he couldn't help but wonder why the boy had looked so disliking. Any wizard from a magical family would've recognised Draco's blond hair and aristocratic features, and this boy had to be at least half-blood, if not more. One could never find features like his on a mudblood. So he couldn't understand why this boy hadn't recognised him.
It was on the Hogwarts Express that their paths crossed again. Draco had heard a rumour that Harry Potter was on the train together with a Weasley. Draco moved through the train, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, who would, unbeknownst to Draco, come to follow him a lot during their Hogwarts years. He finally found the right compartment and opened the door to find the boy from Madam Malkin's sitting across from a redhead who had to be the newest Weasley.
"So is it true? Everyone's saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment. Must be you", Draco said, looking at the not-Weasley boy.
"Yes", the boy, now Harry Potter, answered.
"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The red-head snorted. "Think my name is funny do you?" Draco asked. "No need to ask for yours; red hair, and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley." Weasley looked down. Draco turned his gaze to Potter.
"You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." Draco held out his hand. "I can help you there." Potter looked at his hand.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Draco let his hand fall.
"You ought to be more careful, Potter. With manners such as that you'll go the same way as your parents." Potter looked like he wanted to stand up and argue against Draco's jibe toward his parents, but it seemed like the sight of Crabbe and Goyle's huge forms deterred him.
The animosity between Draco and Potter grew stronger during their first year at Hogwarts and when the time came for the students to board the train back to London Draco was dearly hoping he wouldn't run in to what had been recognised as "the golden trio" among the first years. At the moment he just wanted to find an empty compartment and ride in silence back home. But of course he was out of luck. He had left Crabbe and Goyle with the other Slytherins and was walking toward the luggage compartment as all the others were already taken. He opened the door only to find none other than Harry Potter sitting there. Turning on the spot Draco only had time to take one step before Potter called out.
"Malfoy, wait!" Against all better judgement Draco stopped and stood still.
"What is it Potter?" Potter remained silent and just as Draco was about to leave again he said.
"I want to talk to you. About what happened on the train to school."
Draco turned around at the words. Potter couldn't be serious. After a whole year he wanted to talk about what had caused the animosity and fights between them? He could feel a rage starting to rise inside but he remained silent, actually wanting to hear what Potter had to say.
"I want us to stop fighting."
"What?!", Draco exclaimed.
"Why not?"
"Because everyone knows about us hating each other, how could they not? We try to hex each other at the slightest insult." Draco was seriously wondering what had gotten to Potter. Potter sighed and sat down on a trunk.
"What brought this on anyway?" Draco asked, his rage suddenly gone in a blink.
"I've had enough of the goody-two-shoe Gryffindors and figured you might be worth getting to know." Even more shocking.
"You can't be serious."
"Afraid I am", Potter answered.
"You realise we can't be seen shaking hands and walking to class together without jinxes flying, don't you?" Draco asked seriously.
"Well, could we at least agree to not actually try to kill each other? And possibly maintain some form of civility between us, out of the public eye?"
Draco thought about it. He hadn't liked the fights. After all, he had tried to befriend Potter the very first time they met, even before he knew his name. He realised now what an arse he had made of himself in the shop and understood why Potter had taken an immediate distance. The resulted fights were the reason he had come looking for an empty compartment to begin with.
"Okay, deal", he said finally. For the second time on that train he held out his hand to Potter, and this time, he took it. When Potter let go of his hand Draco turned and left without another word, to find some remote corner of the train that wasn't occupied.
Second year came along sooner than Draco would've wanted. He had thoroughly enjoyed the summer he had spent in France with his mother and wasn't overjoyed to have to return to the rainy lands of Britain. He was, however, curious to see if his deal with Potter was still on. He wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't, but a small part of him hoped.
He stood on the platform with his mother, preparing to board the train. He kept glancing around, hoping to see a glimpse of Potter, if only to confirm the deal. But he was nowhere to be seen. The train left the station and Draco looked out the window to see his mother still standing there. Just as the platform was disappearing out of sight he saw her disappear into thin air. He sat back in his seat and looked over his fellow Slytherins. He was sitting with Crabbe and Goyle as usual, but also with his long time friend Blaise Zabini, and a girl, something Parkinson, he thought. She was quite annoying and he hadn't wasted time learning her name.
When they got to Hogwarts, Draco looked around the Great Hall to see if Potter was sitting with the other Gryffindor second years, but both he and the Weasel were nowhere to be seen.
Potter's no show at the welcome feast was explained the morning after, when the mail arrived. Draco snorted when he saw the picture of the flying car in the Prophet. Leave it to Potter to make a grand entrance.
Draco's first class of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, with the Gryffindors. As they filed in to the classroom he looked over at Potter and caught his eye. Draco raised an eyebrow in question and Potter gave one, barely noticeable, nod before turning back to his friends.
In public, the famed Potter/Malfoy rivalry continued with force. Insults were tossed, hexes thrown and detentions served. But every time they exchanged and slight nod or blink, confirming it was all and act. They were both tired.
One evening Draco found himself aimlessly wandering the castle hallways, wanting to avoid the Slytherin common room, when he turned a corner and walked straight into someone. They both fell over and just as Draco was about to reprimand the person for not watching where they were going he caught sight of bright green eyes.
"Oh, it's you."
"Yeah, me…" Potter answered.
"So what has you wandering the halls?" Draco asked.
"The common room tends to get a bit much at times", Potter answered with a sigh.
"I know what you mean", Draco said in a low voice. But what he didn't understand was why Potter would shy away from his friends and fame. When he asked Potter simply said,
"I didn't ask to be the "saviour" or to be famous. It was chosen for me. I don't really fancy having people always stare at my scar."
Draco's forehead wrinkled. That was unexpected. Draco had thought Potter revelled in the glory his scar gave him.
"What about you? What do you have to shy away from?" Potter asked.
"Slytherin is a House of ambition, Potter. To make sure you'll get what you want when you want it you have to be on top. It takes work but I have kept it up since I first arrived last year. I need to keep up the Malfoy reputation. But like you explained, it gets to be to much at times."
Potter stood up and straightened his robes. Draco did the same and they started walking through the hall together.
"After first year I realised something", Potter said suddenly. "I don't want to fight Voldemort, and I don't want to be told what to do." Potter's words made Draco's eyes widen.
"But… Why?" was the only thing Draco could think to say.
"Why do you think? I was introduced to a world that seemed to good to be true and was overjoyed to leave the muggleworld-"
"You lived in the muggleworld?" Draco interrupted. Potter looked down at his hands, like he was ashamed.
"I still do, it's where I go when the train arrives in London at the end of the year", he answered. "But anyway", he continued before Draco could interrupt again, "At a second look I realised it was too good to be true. The first thing I learn after being told I'm a wizard is that I'm supposed to fight this evil maniac who will take over the world if I don't. A brand new world that's supposed to save me from a life of misery and it turns out I'm to be used yet again."
Draco was utterly gobsmacked. Potter, the "Boy-Who-Lived" didn't want to fight? He had no idea what to say.
"But I don't know what else to do. I can't exactly join Voldemort now that I found out what he would do to me."
"So what's your plan?" Draco asked after a few seconds of silence. Potter looked at him with determination in his eyes.
"I'll have to do it. It seems like no one else will. But I hate the feeling of being pushed and shoved. I wasn't even asked, this was chosen for me."
"I have to admit Potter, this is quite the revelation. I thought you relished in being the perfect Gryffindor and saving the world", Draco said in a slightly haughty voice, but lacking the venom he usually reserved for the Gryffindor.
"Well I don't", Potter huffed and Draco smirked. After a few moments Potter said in a low voice,
"I did have one choice. At the Sorting, the Hat wanted to place me in Slytherin. I refused, I didn't want to be in the same house as you, you reminded me too much of my cousin, who bullied me all through my childhood. So the Hat placed me in Gryffindor. Now I'm starting to wonder if I made the right choice…"
Draco wondered how far jaws could stretch. It felt like his own was hanging low over his chest.
"I mean", Potter continued, "I probably could've defeated Voldemort even if I was a Slytherin. But at the moment it just felt wrong to belong to the House he did."
After several minutes of silence Potter looked at Draco.
"What?" he asked when he saw Draco's shocked face.
"Oh several things", Draco said once he regained his composure. "For starters this was not how I imagined the "saviour" would be, second, I have never heard of the Sorting Hat doing something like that and third, why are you telling me this, Potter?" Potter chuckled.
"Because, despite our previous differences, I feel like I can trust you, Draco." These words left Draco feeling very smug, but also confused. Potter had handed him the ultimate weapon, yet Draco knew he would never use it. It was a new feeling…
He and Potter went their separate ways, returning to their dorms. It would be a while before they had such a conversation again.
A few weeks later Draco received yet another surprise from Potter; he could talk to snakes. Would it never end?
Second year ended, as well as third. Draco and Potter's relationship had evolved into a friendship, and somewhere along the way he had become "Harry" instead of "Potter". Any differences they had in public they didn't discuss when they met, they had agreed it was all for show. It was simply easier that way. Third year had been quite uneventful, except for an injury caused by cockiness and stupidity, and a humiliating punch from Harry's mudblood friend. Harry had laughed at that when they met a few days later. Now they sat together in the luggage compartment on the way back to London. They were discussing the differences between their Houses.
"Ron convinced me first year that all Slytherins are evil gits", Harry said, smirking.
"Well, some certainly are", Draco agreed, leaning against Harry's legs as he sat on the floor, shuffling his deck of cards. "But some are simply free spirits seeking something bigger, wanting to reach high."
"You're so full of it, Draco", Harry said and smacked him on the head.
"Hey! Now that is exactly the type of behaviour characteristic for a Gryffindor. You're all such brutes." That earned Draco another smack on the head. "See?"
Harry chuckled. "At least we don't run screaming from any potential danger", he said, knowing exactly how Draco would react.
"Slytherins think ahead. How are we supposed to achieve anything if we race head first into situations without knowing what will happen?"
"Oh, so that's what Gryffindors do then?"
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to actually think things through", Draco muttered under his breath.
Before fourth year rolled around they met at a most unlikely place; the Quidditch World Cup. Though at a second thought Draco was sure Harry would've been able to afford tickets. Harry had told him about the money his parents had left him. He seemed to trust Draco, which was a surprise to both of them. They often avoided talking about their different sides in the soon to be war. They had both agreed it would happen and they both knew they might end up on different sides when the battle lines were drawn. Draco had told Harry about his father's roll in the last war, which would probably be the same next time. Neither of them wanted to admit they were set on different paths. Both were steadfastly loyal to their own side, but trying to meet in the middle. Despite their friendship they had no trouble speaking ill of each other or fight in public. It had become second nature. Both had come to rely on their private moments when they could talk about anything.
Back at school they got a surprise; the Triwizard Tournament was going to take place at Hogwarts. But the true shock came when Harry's name was pulled from the Goblet of Fire. After the selection ceremony, where the champions where chosen, Draco hurried to an abandoned classroom on the third floor, where they had met often in the past, far in the east side of the castle. It didn't take long before Harry arrived, looking shaken. He walked straight up to Draco, who hugged him tightly and then sat him down in a chair.
"What happened?" Draco asked. He wanted to hear it from Harry, his version.
"I… I…", Harry stammered. He had certainly kept his shit together if he was falling apart this much now, Draco thought.
"Another decision made for me…" Harry whispered and Draco wanted to curse whoever put Harry's name in that damned goblet. Not again, he thought. Was Harry's life always going to be decided for him?
"What do I do?" he asked Draco. Draco stayed silent for a moment before answering,
"What did they tell you?"
"That…That I have to be in the Tournament, there's no going back."
"Then you do that. Do the Tasks. Survive." Draco looked at the black-haired teen across from him. Harry didn't deserve this. Harry then took a deep breath and straightened up, a new resolve in his eyes. This always amazed Draco, how Harry just up and did what he had to.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah", Harry answered and gave him a goofy grin.
As Draco expected, Harry managed the Tasks well. Even with the occasional moment of weakness Harry was extremely powerful and clever, no matter what Snape liked to say during class. Granted, Potions wasn't Harry's strongest subject but he wasn't always as bad as Snape made him out to be. The final Task however, was a different story. Harry arrived back with the Triwizard Cup. And a dead body. The body of Cedric Diggory.
"He's back!" Harry cried when Dumbledore tried to lift him away from the body. "Voldemort's back!"
Draco couldn't get to Harry for a while after the Final Task. Finally, a few days after, they met in the classroom on the third floor.
"Is it true?" Draco asked immediately. Harry only nodded. Draco felt himself go boneless and sank to the floor against wall. Harry sat down beside him and leaned his head against Draco's shoulder.
"What happens now?" he asked Draco. Neither of them had an answer.
Fifth year would turn out to be a nightmare for Harry, and rather pleasurable for Draco. The new DADA teacher was certainly something else, and when the hag (because there was no denying that's what she was) became High Inquisitor, Draco found himself and his House in a prime spot. They earned more points than there were, and Gryffindor was down at the bottom. Draco joined the small army of students Umbridge had at her every beck and call and found his new authority suiting him well. Harry, however, was miserable. He was banned from his House's quidditch team and Umbridge seemed to have a personal grudge against him. They often met in their classroom but their talks weren't what they used to be. Their public feud had reached a new level and Harry had started to blame Draco for what was happening, since he had taken a place in Umbridge's inner circle. Draco couldn't deny it and he tried to explain that it was what he had to do. It was expected of him. Harry couldn't understand, even if he was doing the same. Fighting Voldemort because it was expected of him. But their disagreement didn't stop him from seeking solace in Draco's arms in moments of weakness. Draco couldn't understand how Harry's friends were missing how he really felt. Granted, his mask was nearly flawless, but how they didn't see the emptiness in his eyes was beyond Draco.
Near the end of the year Draco found out that Harry was secretly training a group of students in defensive magic. He wasn't surprised Harry hadn't told him, his loyalty to his friends simply wouldn't let him. Draco couldn't deny though, that there was a small part of him full of smug satisfaction when he got to bring down the "DA", as it was called. Of course, Harry was angry. He explained several times, after, how they weren't learning anything from Umbridge and that there was no way they would pass their OWLs if they didn't do anything. And when the DA was brought down Harry didn't see any hope. Now they had nothing against Umbridge. Draco didn't know what to think. It had been his moment to shine but at the same time it had really hurt Harry. But the biggest blow was yet to come.
It was after Draco had gathered Harry and his group in Umbridge's office that everything went wrong. An incident with puking pastilles had Draco completely missing out on the fact that Harry left Hogwarts with his gang. When Draco went looking for Harry he was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until a few days later, when they met again, that Harry told him about what had happened when he left. He had gone to the Ministry to stop the Dark Lord from killing his godfather. When Draco asked how Harry even knew it was going to happen Harry shared some disturbing stories about dreams where he could see what the Dark Lord was doing. That was how he had known his godfather was in danger. But when he got to the Ministry he found it was all a trap. His godfather had been killed and Harry had very nearly followed him.
When Harry told him this Draco simply took him in his arms and held him tightly. He knew he had to tell Harry about what he was possibly facing this summer but he couldn't fathom doing it at that moment. Harry had had enough for one year.
When September 1st came around and it was time for their sixth year, Draco greatly dreaded the train ride to Hogwarts. He didn't want to face Harry, knowing the black-haired boy would ask about his Mark. So he steadfastly sat with his Slytherins, talking about how he wouldn't be returning next year. But underneath his mask he worried that Harry would come seek him out. And sure enough, near the end of the trip the compartment door opened and he saw something shimmering in the air. I wish he wouldn't do this, Draco thought. He wanted to explain to Harry in peace and quiet, after the welcoming feast. But it didn't look like that would happen.
When the train stopped Draco stood up with the rest of them but pretended that something was wrong with his trunk, telling the rest of them to go ahead. As soon as the compartment door shut behind Blaise he shot a petrifying jinx toward the shelf where he knew Harry was. To his surprise there was a loud bang as something fell to the floor. He bent down and felt around until his hand met something silky. He grabbed it and pulled, revealing a face-down, petrified Harry.
"What are you doing, Harry?!" Draco asked, exasperated. He bent down and turned Harry face up again. His nose looked crushed and was bleeding heavily.
"Finite Incantatem." Harry immediately shot up from the floor, grabbing his cloak from Draco's hands.
"What am I doing?" he asked. "What are you doing? Why are you avoiding me?"
Draco looked down at his hands. He didn't want to face Harry. He could feel those green eyes staring.
"I didn't want to talk here. There's a lot to tell and I was hoping it could wait until we got the castle", he answered. Harry kept looking at him.
"Come on", Draco said. "The train will leave soon again, we'd better get off."
They jumped off the train just as it started moving again.
"Promise to meet me after the feast?" Harry asked.
"Yes." They split up and made their way to the castle, not wanting to risk anyone seeing them. Draco had no idea what Harry would tell his friends about his nose. Probably that Draco had broken it.
When the feast was over Draco made his way to the classroom, making sure no one followed him. As soon as he entered he was enveloped in familiar arms.
"I thought you were mad at me", Draco whispered into Harry's shoulder.
"I am", Harry answered. "But I missed you."
They let go of each other and sat down against a wall.
"So what's happened?" Harry asked. Draco sighed and told him about his summer. How he had been summoned to meet the Dark Lord and how he had gone on to receive the Dark Mark. How Voldemort had given Draco a task he had to complete, or he would be killed.
"What is the task?" Harry asked. Draco stayed silent.
"Tell me, Draco." Draco looked up at Harry, tears in his eyes.
"I have to kill Dumbledore." Harry sat back in shock.
"Say something, Harry", Draco pleaded. He didn't know what Harry would do, but he knew one thing; whatever happened, he couldn't lose Harry. He reached out to place his hand against Harry's cheek and felt relief flood through him when Harry didn't move away. Instead, Harry turned his gaze toward Draco, his eyes filled with… Anger? Relief? Regret? Draco didn't know.
"He'll kill you otherwise, won't he?"
"Yes."
The weeks passed and their meetings in the classroom became less friendly. Harry tried to talk to Draco about his task, and Draco wanted him to drop it. They didn't fight but their friendship had taken a beating. In public things got even worse. Harry had convinced his friends that he thought Draco was up to something. Draco was, of course. He had told the Slytherins to not question what he did when he left the common room for long periods of time.
One day, Harry was following Draco on the Marauder's Map, when he saw him walk through a solid wall on the seventh floor. Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Maybe there was something wrong with the map? He walked through the castle to the seventh floor hallway and it was only when he arrived that he realised that it was the empty wall that hid the Room of Requirement. He wondered what Draco was doing in there. He walked back and forth in front of the wall three times thinking "I need to see Draco". He didn't think it would work, since usually the room needed something specific. Whether the room sensed what he meant or that he just really needed to see the blond and talk to him Harry didn't know. Either way, Harry was surprised when he saw the door appear. He stepped forward and opened it. Stepping inside, he saw a large room packed with things. Most of them appeared to be broken, others where on the list of things banned from the school. The piles where at least twenty feet high and spanned out to create aisles that led in to the room. Somehow Harry seemed to know which way to go to find Draco. He followed a path to his left and followed it until he reached a big, black cabinet. He looked around but didn't see any sign of Draco.
"Draco?" Suddenly, the blond appeared behind a stack of old, cracked or melted cauldrons.
"Harry?" he said, clearly surprised. "What are you doing here?" Harry looked down at his shoes, debating whether or not to tell Draco about the Map. He decided it was best to tell the truth. After all, Draco was one of the few people he actually trusted, despite their recent disagreements.
"I saw you enter the Room of Requirement on a map", he said, looking up at a confused Draco.
"It's magical, it's called the Marauder's Map. My father and his three friends made it while they were here at Hogwarts. It shows every room in the school, all the grounds surrounding it as well. It also shows everyone in the school. Where they are, what they're doing, every minute, of every day." In his head Harry mentally thanked the Twins yet again for giving him the map. Draco still looked confused, but now with added disbelief.
"The point is, I knew you were here thanks to the map", Harry explained. "What are you doing? I didn't really think you were up to something but now I'm starting to think you are." Draco looked slightly guilty, but he explained nevertheless,
"I have to start working on a way to kill Dumbledore", he said in a low voice. "I have no idea how, but if I can mend this cabinet…." he trailed off, looking over at the black cabinet Harry had been led to.
"Tell me", Harry said, now really curious.
"You have to trust me Harry, I have to do this. He'll kill me otherwise", Draco said, looking desperate. "I can't tell you what I'm trying to do. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but I can't." Draco looked at Harry and then again at the cabinet. Harry didn't know what to do. He knew why Draco couldn't tell him, and he didn't blame him. But Harry didn't know what he was supposed to do. He was standing in front of a person clearly saying he meant to kill Dumbledore, without whom, all would be lost. But he couldn't go against Draco.
Draco looked at Harry, seeing the conflict in the boys eyes. He couldn't ask anything of Harry, he had to let him decide for himself what he would do. But Draco wondered; would Harry help him, or damn him?
"I won't go against you Draco", Harry said eventually. "But I can't help you either." Draco sighed in relief. He walked over to Harry and took one of his hands in his own. Harry was a lot shorter than him, and when Draco looked down at him he could see concern and worry in the green eyes that had come to be a salvation for Draco over the years.
"I don't have to know what you are doing Draco", Harry said, before dropping the blond's hand and leaving the room.
Christmas came and went and Draco used the Room of Requirement excessively during that time. He knew Harry was watching him on that map he had told Draco about, but the dark-haired boy rarely came to see him. Draco could understand why. While Harry might no like to be bossed around by Dumbledore he wasn't going to go against the old man. Harry felt he had to fight Voldemort, even when he would rather just live a normal life. He had told Draco this and Draco wasn't about to argue against him. At least Harry wasn't fighting Draco in his attempts to kill the old professor. But they rarely saw each other anymore, and the newfound loneliness had punched a hole in Draco's chest, one only a certain dark-haired boy could mend.
Draco was standing in front of the cabinet, about ready to give up. He was on the last try, and if it didn't work… He sent the bird through, waited a beat, before calling it back. He heard the zap in the cabinet, but nothing else. He opened the cabinet and saw the bird lying dead.
He was going to fail. Draco could feel the panic rising in his chest. He stepped back, turned, and started running through the room, trying to find the door. He had to get out. Suddenly it appeared before him. He wrenched it open, rushing out into the hallway. He ran and ran. At last he stopped and he found himself outside a boys bathroom. He opened the door and went inside, walking up to one of the mirrors hanging above the sinks. Draco looked at himself and found a gaunt looking face staring from the glass. He raised his hands to touch his hollowed cheek and found it shaking. His whole body was shaking, and he felt cold inside. He didn't know what to do, the cabinet couldn't be fixed and he had not yet found a way to kill the Headmaster. And he had no one to turn to. He couldn't ask for help since this was his task, if he didn't complete it himself he was as good as dead already. He sunk down to the floor in despair. He didn't know what to do…
Suddenly he heard the door open and close. He looked around and saw Harry standing there. In a flash Draco got up and raced to where Harry stood. As soon as Draco reached him he flung his arms around the Gryffindor. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and held him tight.
"Tell me", he whispered in Draco's ear and Draco felt tears fill his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to tell Harry about his problem with the cabinet and possibly facing certain death. But Harry had said he wouldn't help him, that he couldn't. So Draco stayed silent, but Harry asked again,
"Tell me, please Draco." And Draco gave in. He told Harry about the cabinet, how he hadn't found a way to kill Dumbledore and how the Dark Lord was sure to kill Draco if he couldn't complete the task.
"It's a way to take revenge on father, because of his failure at the ministry last year", Draco finished. Harry hadn't said a word since Draco had started talking. Now he asked,
"Can't you just… Not? Can't you just leave?" Draco's face had frozen. How…
"What?" Harry asked.
"You don't understand, do you?" Draco whispered. "You don't get it."
"Of course I do, Draco", Harry said immediately.
"No, you don't!" Draco yelled, pushing away from Harry, who looked shocked. "You don't understand! It's not just my life on the line. If I leave, hide from him, he'll kill my parents. I'll have nothing left. He knows this. He will get what he wants either way, to him it doesn't matter who dies." Harry stood silent.
"I lost my parents", he said. "He took them from me. I'm not fighting him because it's the right thing to do. I'm doing it because he took my life from me."
"Voldemort has taken so many people's lives, you're not the only one. So why are you still following Dumbledore?! He wants nothing more than to use you as a puppet to defeat the Dark Lord and yet you still do as he says. All while claiming you fight because no one else does! Because Voldemort took your life from you?" Harry looked down, is hands shaking. "You don't have to follow him, Harry. But you don't see that, do you?"
Harry ripped his wand from his pocket. Draco, who had reached for his own as soon as Harry did, blocked the hex Harry had sent his way. Draco dodged the next one and ducked behind a row of stalls. Hexes and curses flew, shattering mirrors and cracking walls. Water flowed everywhere. Suddenly Harry yelled "Sectumsempra!" The curse hit Draco right in the chest and he flew back. He felt a searing pain in his chest and something warm flowing down his body from where the curse had hit. His vision blurred, but he could make out Harry kneeling beside him, trying to stop what must have been a heavy flow of blood from the wounds. Nothing seemed to work and Draco was starting to lose consciousness. Just as he was about to slip away he felt something cold spread through his chest. Then the world went black.
Draco had woken up days later, disoriented and weak from blood loss. Apparently it was professor Snape who had saved him. Draco's friendship with Harry had been one of the things that got him through school. Now it was gone and he was lonelier than he had ever been during the endless summers in a very empty Manor. That feeling of safety Harry had always given Draco was gone, with nothing to replace it. And now Draco was more scared than ever.
Draco stood before Harry, looking down at his swollen face. This is it, he thought. Draco thought back to all those moments at Hogwarts, hidden away in alcoves, abandoned rooms, and, when they had found it, the Room of Requirement. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let Harry die, even after all that had happened. No one knew him for who he really was. He was doing all of this because it was asked of him. Draco had left Hogwarts and joined his parents. But he couldn't leave Harry now, he couldn't let him die.
"I'm not sure", he told his aunt. "It could be him, but i can't tell with his face all messed up."
"Well", his aunt huffed. "We can't call him if we're not certain or we'll lose our heads." She stopped and looked at the mudblood. "Cissy! Take the boys to the dungeon, I wish to speak to the girl." Draco's mother took Harry and the Weasel and led them down to the dungeon. Draco walked off to the side to watch his aunt have her way with the mudblood.
"What was that, Draco?" his father hissed. "How could you not know if it's Potter? Do you know what would happen if we were to be the ones to deliver him to the Dark Lord?" Draco sighed.
"Would you rather be wrong, father?" he asked. "It's not like I spent my time in that wretched school storing Potter's every feature in my memory. I did everything I could to avoid him." His father sighed and looked away. Draco felt relief course through his body. He couldn't do any more for Harry now, he would only kill them all.
Draco stood before Harry on the Hogwarts grounds. The battle was over, the Dark Lord was dead. He looked into the eyes of the boy whom he had thought for so long would be his salvation. The green eyes were filled with a steel resolve. He could never forgive Draco for what he had done. Draco knew best how Harry felt about trust. Once broken, it could never be regained. The green eyes stared at him for a moment longer before he turned away from Draco and walked back to the castle. Draco stood there, feeling the small sliver of hope he had held on to for so long slipping through his fingers and finally leaving him for good.
Ten years later Harry Potter opened the Daily Prophet to find a notice about an Azkaban prisoner, who had died:
After being locked up in the prison for nine years, serving a sentence for aiding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named during the war, previous Death Eater, Draco Malfoy, passed away in his cell during the night between 6th and 7th July. During his trial ten years ago, many people expected Harry Potter to speak on behalf of the Death Eater. But to the surprise of the wizarding community, Harry Potter elected to let the Wizengamot decide the penance Mr. Malfoy would serve for his crime, which came to be a lifetime in Azkaban prison.