CHAPTER FOUR
Fear. He could feel it overflowing from him as he jolted awake. Draco opened his eyes to the darkness of the dormitory room. His entire body was trembling; he could feel his heart racing in his chest. Minutes dragged by as he tried to calm down. Fuck, he was scared. The phantom of the Dark Lord's eyes were still burned into his mind.
The task wasn't going to plan. He could feel his shaking increase, the nightmare had been horrible. He could see his parents dead on the floor with their blood seeping into his shoes. Draco pressed his hand to his lips and tried to calm the shaking. Nobody could see him in such a weakened state. He tried to calm his breathing while making virtually no sound.
The dormitory room was lit by a soft green glow. He could make out the sleeping forms of his roommates, none of them seemed to have awoken. Moving as quietly as he could, he grabbed his wand, got dressed, and slipped out of the room.
The Common Room's fire was burning low. It cast eerie shadows among the arm chairs and sofas. Draco kneeled in front of the fire and tried to focus himself. The flames licked up the logs and shivered as though greeting him with their fiery fingers. He sat in front of the fire for a while, just watching the flames. It calmed him down. He could remember doing it since he was a kid, sitting in front of the grand fireplace in the Manor.
Some nights when neither his father nor his mother came home, he would just spend curled up in front of the fire. The heat was calming and made him feel less lonely. The Manor had always made him feel very small. It had so many rooms, some he'd never even visited, and had so many secrets. When he was younger he had always asked why they couldn't live in a smaller house. He always had gotten the same answer: It's your honor as a pureblood. Was it also his honor to have his and his family's life threatened by the Dark Lord?
Stupid. He dug his nails into his palm. Of course it was his honor. It was the highest honor to be given such a task from the Dark Lord. He would succeed and then he would be treated above all. However the task seemed so daunting; it stretched out before him like a steep cliff that he couldn't dream of climbing. He felt so small, so miniscule. How could he kill Albus Dumbledore? It was impossible. If even the Dark Lord couldn't, how could he? It was overwhelming.
He was one of the first ones at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. A couple of the Slytherins greeted him brusquely, but none stayed to chat. Draco poked at his sausage gloomily. He needed something to take his steam off on. At that moment his eyes zeroed in on a familiar head of black hair entering the hall. Potter.
Draco was about to stand up when Pansy sat down beside him and clung to his arm, "Hey cutie!"
He had to remind himself several times that the Parkinsons were a valued pureblood family before he reacted, "Hello Pansy."
She nuzzled against him, "You've been avoiding me you grump. Have you been busy with the task?"
"Of course," Draco said, a trace of his old smugness coming back.
"Ugh, look at that cow," Pansy sneered as Cho Chang walked by, "I heard she jumped to Potty after Cedric. What a slut."
Draco watched the Asian girl curiously. She was pretty by most standards with beautifully shaped eyes and sleek brown hair, but she didn't really do it for him. Mostly it surprised him that Potter had gotten with such a pretty girl, not that Potter was bad looking. He had actually filled out in recent years and was rather- he stopped himself. There was no way he was going to finish that train of thought.
"Draco," Pansy whined, in a way she obviously thought cute, "Why aren't you listening?"
She had been talking? He'd been watching Potter get up and leave the Great Hall alone. Muttering an excuse to Pansy, he got up and followed Potter out. It only took a few minutes for Potter to duck into an unused classroom. Draco hesitated by the door for a second before slipping inside.
"I need to talk to you, Malfoy," Potter said, facing him and clearly having been aware of being followed.
Draco examined his nails, "Come to beg for forgiveness?"
"Last I checked you were the one following me."
Draco could feel his cheeks warm, "I'm warning you Potter. I can ma-"
"Make life hell for me," Potter bared his teeth in less of a smile and more of a grimace, "I know. You can try. I don't want to fight you-"
"Could have fooled me."
"-so for fucks sake just quit it. Stop threatening me."
Draco eyed him, "Why?"
Potter looked perplexed, 'Why? Because it's a shitty thing to do."
Draco smiled, "But it's fun."
"It's fun," Potter ran a hand through his hair, "You're bothering me because it's fun?"
"You're a spoiled brat," Draco said, "The teachers treat you specially, you're Dumbledore's pet, you're a precious Gryffindor." He could feel his rage building with every word, "You always get the girl you want, you have the perfect best friends, you're famous, you're praised a hero, you're so precious." He spat the final word like it was poison, "Famous Harry Potter."
Potter shook his head, "You're getting everything wrong Malfoy. Do you know a single thing about me?"
"You're a half-blood."
"Something that matters."
Draco snorted, "I know you're raised by Muggles who don't even want you."
His heart lurched unevenly as the full impact of those words hit him. From the look on Potters face he knew he'd hit a nerve. Somehow he felt guilt instead of pleasure at the sight. He wanted to apologize. The foreignness of the feeling struck him like a blow to the head. He actually was feeling sorry for Potter. Something was squeezing his throat and he knew he had to say something.
"I'm-" The word wouldn't come out, "You're- I shouldn't have said that."
"Don't worry about it," Potter said wearily, "You're just an insensitive prick anyways."
"D-do they know?" Draco asked.
"Does who know what?" Potter asked.
"Do the Muggles know you're Infected?"
Potter laughed at him, "Do you think they'd let me live with them if they knew? I'm a monster, remember?"
"You're not, you're not that bad," Draco mumbled.
Potter stared at him and Draco felt his face heat up. What was he doing? Why was he acting so meek in front of Potter? He was the enemy, he was a monster! The disgust wouldn't come up though and he felt something painful in his chest. He fucking hated the way Potter looked when he talked about being a monster. Normally he hated his face but he really fucking hated his face when he looked sad.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Potter asked bluntly, "Why do you keep bothering me? Why are you a complete shithead one second and then suddenly I'm 'not that bad' the next?"
"I don't fucking know!" He snarled and raked through his hair as though he wished to rip it out, "I don't understand at all but I can't leave you alone-"
"So you pity me."
"NO!" He roared, "I just don't fucking like your stupid face when you're sad! You're supposed to be this happy asshole and I'm supposed to hate you! But that doesn't even fucking matter!" He laughed slightly hysterically, "None of this was supposed to happen! We were supposed-"
With a snap he shut his mouth. He wouldn't go there; he wouldn't open the hurt that had been brewing for six long years. There was a raging storm inside of him. His lungs were pumping torrent winds through his bloodstream and a sea raged in his stomach. Rain threatened to spill from his eyes like liquid silver. He wanted to scream and hit Potter until he understood, but violence wouldn't solve anything.
Potter was watching him with a mixture of surprise and something else. It had to be disgust, it was disgust. Draco already felt unbalanced from a shitty night, and now he was coming to pieces in front of Potter over the past. How stupid of him. Defensive rage filled him and he wanted to slap Potter, to hurt him. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted to make him see that he was worth more than the Slytherin stereotype, that he could be bathed in silver and green and not be tainted. In a fucked up way he just wanted Potter's approval. He wanted to hurt him, but he also wanted his approval. Fuck, fuck, fuck!
"For fuck's sake Malfoy," Potter said, "You're making no sense. Stop beating around the fucking bush and come out with it!"
"I don't hate you!" Draco blurted out, "I just fucking hate the way you act like everything is so easy! Like saving people is second nature! Like you're not scared to death in the face of deadly monsters and insurmountable tasks! And you always break the rules and always get off! When I broke my father's prized quill-"
His breath was coming in harsh gasps now and he couldn't get any more words out. He wanted to vomit every last bit of this painful feeling out until he could start over as something new. Potter had to know. He had to know that everything wasn't Draco's fault and that if things had gone to plan they would have been- With a mental push he shoved the dangerous train of thought out of his head completely. Potter was watching him.
"What did he do?" Potter asked.
"Nothing!" Draco gasped, "Nothing, it's nothing, forget I said anyth-"
"Malfoy!" Potter grabbed him by the shoulders and held him by the jaw so he'd look at him, "If your father is abusing you-"
"He's not abusing me!" Draco snarled, shoving Potter away, "Anyways you wouldn't care. I'm an insensitive prick and you hate me."
"You are an insensitive prick," Potter said, "You're selfish and you hurt people whenever you're angry or just for kicks. But that doesn't mean I'll leave you alone when your father is abusing you."
"So I'm another victim for you to rescue?" Draco gave him a disgusted look, "Thanks Potter but I don't need the sympathy. My father is a perfectly respectable man he wouldn't . . ."
"Your father is a Death Eater."
"Just because you're on the losing side-"
"It's not about the sides," Potter said, "It's about whether or not you're being treated like shit at home."
"Why do you care?"
Potter grabbed for his robes and for a second Draco thought he was going to jinx him, but then his robes were on the floor and his shirt pulled up. An ugly scar covered his chest like the skin had been burnt off and covered with bubbly scar tissue. Draco could feel his breath whoosh out at the sight and sickness filled him. The pain he must have been put through to get such a horrible scar made him blanch. He stared at Potter in shock.
"Seven years old," Harry said in a dull voice, "I pissed my cousin off and he poured extremely hot grease on me. I was put in my cupboard for a week because I wouldn't stop crying."
Draco could feel horrified tears pricking the corner of his eyes, "Your- those Muggles?! And what do you mean by cupboard?!"
"I showed you mine, now you show me yours."
Draco shrugged, unable to look Potter in the eye, "Curses don't leave a mark, except . . ." His eyes rested on Potter's scar.
"Your dad-" Potter seemed to be having trouble speaking past his rage, "The- the Cruciatus Curse?!"
"I'm a pureblood," Draco said stiffly, "I have certain things required of me and when I don't meet those demands . . ."
"For fuck's sake," Potter grabbed him again as though he could transfer something unspoken to him, "Why haven't you told someone?! Dumbledore could-"
"What could they do?" Draco asked brutally, "Accuse my father of something they have no proof of? And then what? I'll just be found dead in a ditch a couple weeks later because I displeased the Dark Lord. Anyways it's not like you care."
"I could learn to care," Potter said quietly.
Draco stared at him, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that if you could just stop being an asshole for five minutes then I could help you."
"How?"
Potter squeezed his shoulders painfully, "I- I could be your friend. I could talk to Dumbledore, we could arrange something."
"You're willing to be my friend?" Draco said blankly.
"If you change," Potter said, "If you stop treating everyone around you like shit, if you stop calling my friends horrible names."
"Why?"
"I don't hate you," Potter said, "I think a lot of who you are has to do with what you grew up in. If our roles had been switched, who could I have been to do anything better?"
"You'll be my friend," Draco said quietly, tasting the sentence on his tongue, "A friend."
"If you can stand being friends with a monster," Potter said, smiling bleakly.
"You're not- you're not that scary," Draco said softly, "I don't think you really qualify as a monster."
"Not yet," Potter sighed, "But it'll happen eventually. So will you be my friend until I go insane?"
Yes. Draco had wanted to be his friend since he had met him. Just to be friends with someone who knew nothing about the wizarding world and someone his father would tolerate. Just a friend. Someone to chase away the endless nights of loneliness. Someone to understand how terrified he was every morning he woke up and realized the consequences of his father's decisions.
"Yes," Draco said, "As long as you'll be mine until . . ."
He let the sentence hang and he knew Potter understood. Neither of them were likely to survive the year and they both knew it. It was always just one more day.
A/N What a long fight. But they did get a lot of stuff out there and that's important. So much dialogue! *wipes forehead* I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for any reviews, favs, or follows!