*Unintended Consequences*
Unintended Consequences by Pseudonymous Entity
Summary: Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter
Warnings: None really, it isn't long enough for that I think
AN: I...did not expect that reaction. I am glad you're fond of the idea, as I myself am. That is why I posted it. I will try to get some chapters in here from time to time, please be patient with me? I have an awful lot of stories to keep up with, and RL is kicking my arse.
Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]
"It's been like this from the start...
Stand here, sell this and meet your mark
But the sound of the steel and the crush and the grind
Who am I to decide my life?"
-Robot
Pale fingers rolled the sweet red fruit held between them idly.
Draco was, in a word, troubled. Troubled in a fashion never before encountered in his young life, Draco was troubled by many things at once that had nothing at all to do with him or his parents. Pale gray eyes darted to the right. There sat Potter with his customary uncombed hair, staring at the red stains on his fingertips as if they were precious. This was only a small portion of what troubled Draco about his compartment mate. Being troubled from time to time was itself nothing new to Draco. With a father like Lucius, and a family name like Malfoy, one was bound to come across trouble from time to time. He even understood when others had similar troubles, if not quite the same. Malfoy troubles were unique in most instances, after all.
But troubles like this. Well, even a respectable and well-educated pureblood might find themselves at a loss for which specific course of action -if any- they ought to make to correct the troubles. Let alone a preteen.
First things first perhaps. Draco raised his hand to pop the last strawberry into his mouth and then, quite suddenly, his fingers changed course. Without looking, not quite able to make himself do so, he held it out in his companion's general direction and cleared his throat. He knew Potter heard him and that his large green eyes were staring at it.
Trying ever so hard not to roll his eyes Draco waved it a bit. "Go on then. Take it."
Deciding Draco wasn't pretending to offer food -this another troubling thing Draco needed to address- Potter took it. Daring to turn his head a fraction Draco took in the ridiculously pleased expression on Potter's face. Over a strawberry. He allowed himself to chew his lip briefly, very unMalfoy of course and mulled over his options. Well, there was just no getting around it was there? Personally, he thought, straightening up a bit in his seat, Weasley deserved whatever consequences he got for coming up with such an idiotic idea. Most especially considering he had endangered the firstborn -and only- son of a pureblood family during it. Along with risking the discovery of their world by the muggles. Moronic ginger imbecile.
Here he glanced once more at Potter. The inky headed boy seemed perfectly content to sit there in silence, kicking out his feet every so often, and stare out the window. Much as Draco himself liked to do. Without the unseemly fidgeting.
Potter ought to, halfblood or not, as the firstborn of a pureblooded family take a bit of social responsibility and send a letter along to Weasley's parents about it all. Perhaps their head of house as well so she wasn't surprised by one of her pupils crashing a muggle contraption on the grounds. Speaking of purebloods, the Weasleys, while not doing much in that realm nor honouring it as they should, were in fact purebloods. With that in mind, he knew that technically -if they decided for whatever reason to embrace that part of themselves- Potter could get into trouble by being the last person with Weasley, and abandoning him to boot.
Draco stood to his feet before he could talk himself out of it. "Potter." He said.
He waited patiently for those large green eyes to set on him in question. Potter sat in his over-sized clothes, looking pathetic. If not quite as pathetic as he had earlier. Draco certainly didn't wish to instigate another panic attack. He would need to word the following conversation just right.
Draco cleared his throat. Right. "See here Potter," Draco began. "I had a thought. Perhaps we ought to write to Weasley's father. He might think his...car...has been stolen, and we wouldn't want that. Perhaps as well, while we're doing that, we could jot one out to your head of house as well. Just to let her know."
Potter tilted his head to the side, inky hair swaying like trees in the wind. "Do you think?"
"Yes," Draco confirmed.
The Gryffindor looked about the cabin, at a loss. His small fingers twisting in the hems of too long sleeves. "You see, what it is..."
Draco raised a brow. Potter took a breath in response.
"I may have let out my owl so she could...er...safe herself." He flushed spectacularly.
"Oh." Said Draco. "Good thinking actually. No matter, you can you use my owl." Draco nodded toward the handsome eagle owl sitting on its perch in the opposite corner of the compartment. "Do you need a quill and parchment as well? You know, I'll just go on and fetch you some while I'm already up." Draco walked across the carpet and brought down his trunk before Potter could find something else in that statement to be apologetic about for no good reason. It was a bit sad. And strange. Draco quite hoped Potter would regain some of his 'oomph' at some point. He'd liked arguing with the other boy and getting him riled up. It was sort of fun.
Finding what he was searching for Draco closed and locked his trunk. He left it on the carpet for the time being. Draco walked to Potter and held out both. "All I've got really is my stationary and home quill." He said as Potter took the objects from him. "My homework, and notation parchments, and my school quills usually arrive in a package in the morning tomorrow at breakfast. Mother uses it as an excuse to check in on any gossip from the sorting and the feast, I think." Draco offered in explanation.
He did not think Potter was the sort of person to care if he was being offered a heavily used personal quill rather than a proper one, but it was hard not to try to excuse the oversight in etiquette whether or not the other person knew of it. Draco sighed. And he also, maybe, possibly, wanted Potter to know that he would have offered him one of his better quills if he'd had them ready. The other boy was just so...used to... Well, Draco didn't have words for it really. Potter just seemed used to the shorter end of the stick in whatever situation he was in. Or something.
Feeling a bit self-conscious Draco began pacing and rambling out his thought process while Potter dutifully wrote out a letter to Weasley's father.
"I want you to know," He said. "That in my personal opinion Weasley ought to get into trouble. I rather think he deserves a consequence for recklessness as well as for endangering you. Honestly, I find myself appalled that neither the adults or his elder brothers -of which he has many- knowing him as they should by now, thought to keep an eye on him. Or at least you."
Potter set down the finished letter to the side and placed a new sheet in front of him. This one to his head of house. Potter stopped momentarily to look up at him in that annoying confused way. "Me?"
Draco turned on his heel and paced about the way round of the compartment. "Yes. Of course. You are the firstborn of a proper pureblood family and you were staying with them. That makes your their responsibility, not Weasley's, a twelve-year-old, and one of them ought to have been with you regardless of their own neglect of their youngest son. Not that I blame them he's highly moronic..." At some point, Potter had returned to writing. "...I can't blame you for not wanting to remain stranded amongst the muggles, you see, but hopping into a mad muggle mechanical machine thing, one you've never operated, hardly seems the best course of action in my point of view."
He turned and paced the other way again. All the while Draco kept Potter in view from the corner of his eyes. Taking in his complexion, the state of his clothing and the thinness of his wrists when they made rare appearances from beneath the amount of fabric that was his shirt. He noted the way Potter held up his fingers from time to time just to look at the strawberry stains there. The way he tried to smooth down his hair without Draco seeing him do it.
"Mad muggle mechanical machine." Potter echoed. "Nice alliteration."
"Thank you." Said Draco. "I think you should have found somewhere off to the side, out of the way, and sent an owl off explaining. You could have even waited in the car for the adults to return. Or anything at all less stupid than flying a car." Draco stopped in front of Harry. He watched the other boy send off the letters and waited for him to sit back down. "I also think I ought to tell you that in general, it is always best to never be the last one to see someone alive."
Potter studied him seriously. "What if they try to kill you first? Is that exempt?"
Draco's lips lifted at the corners of their own accord. "Yes actually. But you shouldn't make it a habit."
"Right. I'll be sure to let the next attempted murderer know that it isn't proper for me to-"
"I mean," Draco interrupted. Because it was important Potter understood this. "I mean you shouldn't have been in the situation at all. That's the sort of thing left to adults. Or at least wizards with more experience than you. House points and dramatically winning competitions -unfairly- is all well and good. For you. At the time." Pause. "You might have died Potter. You might have died and you were willing to take Granger and Weasley down with you. Not that I care about them one whit."
Potter frowned. "I didn't want them to die." he protested.
"I can't say that I know entirely what happened. No one seems to know all of it, only the rumours. What I do know is enough to know you hadn't any plan nor a backup plan, nor did anyone know where you were before you left, and all three of you might have died. Should have died." Draco glanced down at his shoes and then up at the carefully listening Gryffindor. "Almost did die. I know you nearly died. You were in the medi-wing the longest. I..saw you."
Draco watched Potter, waiting, hoping for it to sink in. Why h was bothering was a bit of a mystery to himself. Perhaps it was just that the shorter wizard seemed so wretched. Perhaps he was simply off balance from seeing the other boy's panic. Something like that surely. It was inconvenient whatever it was.
"You were eleven, Potter. I can admire, objectively, the ambition and ruthlessness. I can also find it a bit alarming. It is not your job to save anyone nor is it your duty to deal with the consequences if the saving doesn't happen. Your job is to learn magic so that one day, when you're strong enough, you can be the wizard doing the saving so someone like you doesn't have to. It isn't even your fault. The older students and the adults ought to have taken care of it. So..." He trailed off. "So that's what I mean. What I meant. Don't let yourself get wrapped up in needing to prove yourself or to be needed. Needing to be needed is a disease and it gets you nowhere."
Potter didn't say anything. But he was listening. He was listening and that was what was important just then.
"Sometimes you just can't please everyone." A small note of bitterness may have crept into his voice at that point. "No matter how you try. You have to learn to accept what you are in the present and to accept what others will think of it, and then decide for yourself whether or not you like it. Then you must work to improve yourself if you find it necessary to do so. My Grandfather told me that." Draco revealed, quietly. "But only change things about yourself if it is what you want to do, bot because you think the world thinks it needs doing. If you're not...If you're not pleased with yourself...if you're not happy...then what is the point?"
Potter blinked owlishly. "That was deep."
"I apologize. I shall endeavour to be shallow and petty in future discussions." Draco suggested, dryly. He stopped then, at the look on Potter's face. He couldn't read it but whatever it was it made him suddenly uncomfortable. It was just too serious.
Draco spun around dramatically and examined his reflection in the window. "Has my face gotten lines? Mother says if you speak or laugh too much that you will-"
"Aaand he's back." He heard Potter snark behind him.
Draco continued with the drama for a bit longer, entertaining the boy behind him who was once again smiling and carefree.
As it should be.
PseudonymousEntity
2017
Notes: Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed
An: More? Or leave it a two-shot?
Ever Yours, Pseu