AN: Finally, chapter 3 has arrived! And at a monster 3,000 words! The big meeting scene, and let me tell you, this chappie was a real bitch to wright. I kept saying "They wouldn't do that" or "Like hell that's gonna happen!" And now here is the result of me getting in a bitchfight with my muses. And they fight dirty, too. Anyway, enjoy - and don't forget to review!
Warnings: This story has SLASH! for those of you unfamiliar with the term, this means hot boyxboy lovin'. if this offends or disgusts you, kindly navigate away from this story. And don't leave any flames on your way out, and if you do they will be used to light my livingroom fire.
Also, at some point, this story will have blood, cursing, warfare, sex, and the like. As stated before- you no likie, you no readie.
Black, White, and Grey
Chapter 3: A Meeting at the Park
Harry was reawaked a few hours later by Petunia pounding on his bedroom door. "Wake up! Vernon wants his breakfast within the hour, and I've already started the stove. Don't you dare let it burn! And don't forget, after you wash the dishes you're mowing the lawn. It's far too high to be respectable."
Harry quickly checked the clock on his nightstand, and if he was quick about it he could be at the park in time to meet Malfoy. He jumped out of bed and quickly changed into his yard work jeans and a muscle tee and headed downstairs. He finished breakfast in record time, but took his time doing the dishes, knowing that Petunia accepted nothing less than perfection and would call him back to finish the job properly if the dishes didn't pass her inspection.
After making sure that the dishes were stowed in their proper places in the cabinets, Harry took off his tee and headed to the garage to get out the lawn mower. It was an older push model, and Harry briefly entertained the idea of one of the Dursleys trying to push this thing around the lawn. He could swear the thing had a mind of its own, and was vastly entertained at the picture that formed in his head. He'd been doing this since he was tall enough to properly push the mower around, and knew all of its moods by now. He moved around the lawn quickly and efficiently, getting held up only once to empty the bag. He made sure to get every piece of grass to a "respectable" height, then replaced the lawn mower in its proper area, the garage being as miraculously neat as the rest of the house. He still wondered how Petunia pulled it off, especially now since he was gone for most of the year at Hogwarts.
When he was done with reorganizing the garage, he headed inside for a quick bite and a shower. But before he could head upstairs he was waylaid by his aunt in the hall.
"We are going out for lunch today, and afterwards we are going shopping. My Diddikins needs a whole new wardrobe for his new look." Harry snuck a glance at 'Diddikins' waiting behind his mother in the hallway, and had to admit that Dudley really did need a new wardrobe. After he had been suspended from the boxing team due to a combination of his poor grades and a fight with a student at Smeltings, he had lost all previous will to exercise and regained all the fat he had lost in the space of a few months. Now he had returned to his previous look of a beached whale, and his clothes were stretched over his copious stomach in a slightly sickening way.
"You will not touch any of our electronics, and no funny business while we're gone. We be gone for most of the day, and I expect to find the house in the same condition as it is now when I return. Understand?" Harry nodded, and doing some quick thinking, decided to tell his aunt now that he might be bringing someone home with him.
"Aunt Petunia, I am meeting someone today, and there is the possibility that they'll be staying here for a while. Can he stay?" Petunia narrowed her eyes. "Is he one of your kind?"
"Yes," he quickly went on when he saw her open her mouth angrily, "but, I swear there won't be any ma – uh, funny things going on while we're here. Really, you'll barely even notice he's here. Besides, I'm sure you don't want more of my kind around here, and you will if you say no. They'll know something's up." He could see the cogs turning in her mind, and anxiously awaited her answer. He hadn't really thought about were he and Malfoy would stay if the Dursleys kicked him out, but muggle London would have been the best choice, as there were too many people – both magical and muggle – in the area for them to be easily found if they hid themselves well enough. They could also go into the country, but they would have to be very careful about magic use until they made sure the proper wards were up and running to prevent detection. He was brought out of his Plan B musings by Petunia's voice.
"Very well, he may stay. But under the conditions that there is no funny business of any kind, that he pulls his own weight around here, and that Vernon says yes." Harry cursed quietly under his breath – Vernon would be a bit harder than Petunia to convince, but if Malfoy could play along he might be able to pull it off. "Okay, we can do that." He felt a bit weird talking for Malfoy when he was pretty sure he would never agree to these things, but he had no choice.
"Well, I've got to go take a shower, and I'm sure you're hungry Aunt Petunia, so until this evening?" Petunia nodded tersely and left, Dudley right behind her. He made sure to lock the door behind them, and took a glance at the clock over the mantel piece. He cursed when he saw how little time he had left; he had been hoping for a relaxing shower before meeting Malfoy, but now it would have to be rushed if he didn't want to be late.
Stripping on the way to the bathroom, he quickly showered and washed his hair. He wrapped a towel around his waist, then dried his hair on the way to his room. He rummaged through his trunk looking for something that actually fit him, and found a pair of dark wash jeans and an emerald green tee shirt that Hermione had given him last Christmas, saying "you need something that actually fits you, and your school robes don't count!" Harry smiled to himself at his friend's attitude, and made a mental note to go shopping at some point that summer. He wouldn't be returning here next year if he had any say in it, and wouldn't mind having some nice clothes that actually fit him.
Finished dressing, Harry strapped his holster to his arm – a gift from Remus – and watched as it turned invisible. He attempted to flatten his hair, failed spectacularly, and headed downstairs. He grabbed a cookie from the kitchen, then left through the back door. He waited until he heard the two separate pops as his guards left for the shift switch, and hurriedly made his way down the street before their replacements could take their place. He cut through the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk and walked with a quick stride toward the park, hoping that he wasn't too late.
Draco appeared at the apparition point in the Leaky Cauldron, and – making sure to pull up his hood – carefully made his way to Gringotts. He wasn't as conspicuous as he could have been, as there were few in the Alley at this hour, and many of those there also had their hoods up. These were dangerous times, and it wouldn't do to show your face for all to see with such danger lurking. It was a resurgence of the fear from the First War, and no one knew who to trust in such a public place.
He let out a sigh when he made it through the great doors of Gringotts, and went up to one of the tellers.
Remembering to remove his hood, he said, "Hello, I would like to exchange some galleons for muggle money, and make a withdrawal." He had a thought up a few backup plans incase Potter decided that he wasn't worth his time, the best of which being going into hiding in muggle London or the remote country side until school started up again. Hence, the need for muggle money.
The goblin eyed him shrewdly. "Very well. Follow me to your vault, Mister Malfoy. We will take care of the exchange when we return." They went down to the Malfoy family vault, and Draco was glad that his Father had yet to remove him from access to the vault, as he was sure to do once he discovered his son's betrayal. He filled the bag with as much as it could hold – which was a fair amount – and climbed back into the car. They returned to the main room, and Draco exchanged about a quarter of the bag's contents into muggle pounds. The end result was quite a bit of money, and Draco thanked the goblin for its time before pulling his hood back up and heading back out into the alley.
He didn't notice the assessing look he was receiving from the goblin at the teller. I feel that that one is more than he seems. Perhaps there is hope for the magical world yet.
Draco returned to the Leaky Cauldron, and was trying to decide whether he would eat breakfast now or wait until later, when the choice was taken from him by his father stepping out from the Floo with an icy expression on his face. Draco quickly stepped into a darker corner and made sure his hood was up. His father's eyes swept imperiously around the Cauldron, and Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when his father swept out of the room toward the Alley.
Quickly making his way out the door to London, he threw out his wand arm and stepped back as the Knight Bus screeched to a stop in front of him.
The conductor stepped into view, but quickly stepped out of Draco's way as he boarded. "Where to?" Draco thought for a moment before remembering what Potter had said in the letter. "Little Whinging, Surrey." Stan nodded, and they gripped the railing as the bus took off.
Arriving in Little Whinging, he quickly paid for the ride and stepped off. As fate would have it, the park was about a block away down the street, and he could easily see it from where he'd been dropped off. The bus had luckily dropped him off at an alley, and he quickly removed his robe, revealing a pair of muggle jeans and a storm gray t-shirt. A pair of dragon hide boots completed the ensemble. He took a quick look at his watch, and made his way toward the park.
He was a little early when he arrived, so he seated himself on a bench underneath the shade of a rather large tree and prepared to wait.
When Harry arrived he didn't see anyone resembling Draco at first glance. He headed toward his favorite bench under the tree and saw a shock of platinum blonde hair. He stopped in his tracks and took a closer look. Yes, it was Malfoy, but not as he'd seen him before. For one thing, he was wearing muggle clothes – and though he was loathed to admit it, he pulled it off well. His hair fell freely around his face, not stiffly gelled back like he was used to seeing. But the thing that most caught and held his attention was the expression on Malfoy's face. It wasn't the usual you're-scum-beneath-my-shoes sneer, or his haughty I'm-better-than-you-and-you-know-it smirk. His face was clear, if not a little wistful, as he watched the parents playing with their children. After seeing this change in Malfoy, and feeling the emotions leaking off of him slightly, Harry strengthened his resolve and moved toward the bench Malfoy occupied.
"Malfoy."
"Potter."
"May I sit?" Draco eyed him for a moment before saying, "Of course. Make yourself comfortable. This meeting is on your terms after all." Harry eyed him sharply; this was a strange Malfoy, the one he was used to would not be acting in such a way. There was a submissive undertone to that voice, and he could tell Malfoy was uncomfortable – his shoulders had a tense set to them – and he found that he didn't like that. Not at all.
"Malfoy," Harry found himself saying, "We are meeting as equals, potential allies. You do not need to show deference to me when you speak, or in how you act. You were the one that called this meeting, and though I chose where we are meeting, you choose what you say to me. You choose what this meeting leads to. You can tell me everything or nothing, but I can't help unless you tell me something."
Malfoy eyed him carefully. 'Do I really want to do this? Lay out my entire soul on the chance that he may be able to save me?... I have a better chance with him than with anyone else. The Dark Lord is nothing to me but a monster, and though I'll have to answer to Dumbledore, I must admit it is the lesser of two evils… I just wish there was a middle ground that would accept me and those like me…. I must, I'll do it. I'll lay my soul on a silver platter and hope he can give me the life that I want.
"What do you want to know?" Harry raised an eyebrow and said, "Whatever you are willing to tell me."
Draco sighed. "And if I tell all?" "Then we'll see if all of you is enough." Harry winced when he realized how harsh it sounded, but it was the truth, and he refused to lie at this meeting. As long as Malfoy was truthful, then he would be too.
Draco took a deep breath to settle his nerves. "Are you a legilimens?" Harry looked at him, confused. "Yes, why?" Draco looked him in the eyes, and said, "I don't think I can tell you properly, so I'll show you, if you'll let me."
Harry was at a loss for words. Draco would let him into his mind? Of all things, this was most unexpected. Harry cautiously felt Malfoy's aura, and felt the emotions coming off the blonde – hope, determination, and a slight tinge of fear. Harry analyzed his own emotions, and realized that this was something they both wanted, so he focused in on Malfoy's eyes and nodded.
Malfoy carefully brought down his barriers, and Harry was hit with a wall of memories. A lonely young Draco in a playroom, toys over flowing everywhere, but a sad wistful look on his face as he wished for someone to play with. Draco learning how to fly a broom, ride a horse, etiquette, and to do simple potions and spells with instructors and tutors when it should have been his parents teaching him. A slightly older Draco, writhing under his father's curse – a punishment for embarrassing his father in front of his esteemed colleagues. Pansy and Draco in each other's arms, taking solace in each other after the abuse and neglect of their family. The sadness and pain at being rejected as a friend because he was forced to be the perfect Malfoy. The feeling of relief when he was sorted into Slytherin and realized that he had finally done something his father couldn't hurt him for. The school years from Draco's view, fear of and for his family weighing him down. Scenes of torture over the breaks, punishment for being less than perfect in Lucius's eyes. Draco's whole life flashed before Harry's eyes. He witnessed Draco being seen off by his mother that morning, and what he did afterward. He felt all the raw, stinging emotion that Draco had felt in every single memory.
Finally, the barrage ended. Harry opened his eyes and looked at Malfoy. He felt the wetness on his own cheeks, but was surprised to see that Malfoy also had tear trails down his own cheeks. Harry gently brushed them away before doing the same to himself. He gathered himself and his magic, making sure his voice wouldn't shake as he said what he had to.
"I, Harry James Potter, Scion to the House of Potter and all that this title entails, take Draco Malfoy, Scion to the House of Malfoy and all that this title entails, into my protection under sanctuary. He shall be my equal, my ally, and my friend for as long as he wishes to be so. Do you agree?" Harry stretched out his hand and watched as Draco gathered himself, pulling his magic forward, before firmly grasping the outstretched hand and saying, "I agree." Their magics briefly touched, and they both gasped as they felt the same strange power rolling within themselves in the man opposite them. They looked each other in the eyes and smiled as they intoned in perfect unison, "So agreed, so mote it be."
Their magic interlaced briefly, then separated and returned to their respective wizards. They both collapsed against the bench, catching their breaths from the ritual. When they had calmed down some, they looked at each other for a long moment. Then, Draco stretched out his hand. "Draco Malfoy, pleasure to meet you." Harry took it and shook it firmly. "Harry Potter, and the pleasure's all mine." Neither man could hold back their smile, and they whiled away the rest of the afternoon in quiet companionship.
AN: So what do you guys think? Are you ready to go die in a ditch somewhere, or has my story given you reason to live? C'mon guys! Feedback and constructive criticism is much appreciated. Also, I'm a total review whore, so make me happy! REVIEW!
