During the next few days, Draco spent all his time writing. He wouldn't say anything about it, just asked for more ink and parchment. Harry had to use all his Gryffindor noble traits to keep from peeking when Draco was away, but after an especially busy afternoon, Draco came to him with an impressive stack of parchments.
"This is what's relevant - about the war and the Dark Lord, in general - that I could think of. Read it, and if you have any questions, let me know." He deposited them on the coffee table and walked to his bedroom.
The top most parchment was about Tom Riddle, his childhood and his evolution into Voldemort. The descriptions were distant, almost objective. Draco had written about his life in the orphanage and how he hated failure, but more than that, those who didn't assume responsibility for their failures.
He wrote about the times when Voldemort was finding supporters, explaining what he knew from Snape and what he knew from his father. There were facts, and Draco knew most of them from others. There were no opinions, no explanations, just facts.
Everything stopped when Draco began preparing to become a Death Eater. And that's what Harry really wanted to know: how it was for him and how he felt about what he did. He left everything there and went upstairs.
It occurred to him that reading all that must have taken quite a lot of time and that it was past midnight, but Draco promptly answered the door.
Draco went back to the bed and Harry sat in the armchair, without waiting to be invited.
"I presume you have questions."
"Why did you stop writing there?"
"I thought you wanted to understand Voldemort and the war." Draco seemed exhausted.
"I did, but you just enumerated facts. I already knew most of those."
"I believe the perspective was slightly different, though." Draco paused and looked at his hands, as if they held some great answers. "Did it ever occur to you that opinions such as the ones you're looking for are what brought this war on? Nobody ever stopped to think about what matters. You don't want my opinion, you want arguments to confirm your views on the matter or accuse me or the other Death Eaters."
"I don't -"
"Snape wasn't an evil man. Not when he willingly joined the Death Eaters, just as Moody was never a good man. Everyone was caught in a side of the war and marched on."
"What about you? Did you want to be a Death Eater but failed to? Aren't you passing judgment on everyone now?"
"Of course I am! That's why I stopped where I stopped. I can't be objective and I don't want you to become caught in this mess further."
"Be that as it may, I want to know how you saw things."
Draco shook his head and got up from the bed, "I can't give you that."
"Great time for morals. You can't harm anyone and I won't kick you out if you don't agree with me or if you say anything awful. I took you in thinking you did a lot of awful things, remember?"
Draco smiled bitterly and looked at Harry, "You do know the difference between 'can't' and 'won't', don't you, Potter? I can't tell you what happened to me in the Death Eater camp because I don't know anymore. The wonderful master I had before you had been a Death Eater, and he was angry that I had failed at becoming one. The Confundus Memoria he cast on me wasn't meant to help me forget what he did to me, but to mix my memories with his. I don't know what of what I remember was done by me and what was done by him."
"But how could he do something like that?"
"After he cast the spell, I spent most of the time sleeping… if that can be called sleeping. I would dream about Death Eater raids and killings and… "
Harry got up and walked next to Draco. "You said you didn't kill anyone."
"I was there for raids. I don't know if… I don't think I could have, but some of the dreams were real and there were… " Draco's voice was low and it seemed like he was fighting to speak each word. "I can't tell the difference between the real dreams and the spell-induced ones. That's why I've been reading… to see if I could find out about the events, and see if I could have done any of the ones I remember."
"You should have asked me to get you the Daily Prophet."
"Yes, and you would have thought I wanted to do some evil thing."
"Not if you would have explained why you wanted the newspapers. I'm not absurd, I'm just… cautious."
"I can't tell you more," Draco said after a short pause. "If you know how to watch pensieved memories, I could give you a few, but they're flawed… It's your choice."
"I'll think about it." He was hoping Hermione could get him a Pensieve that hadn't been tampered with by ministry officials.
"You said you already knew most of the things I wrote about…"
"Dumbledore knew most of it and he showed them to me."
Draco nodded thoughtfully.
"I was hoping you could… " He sat on the bed heavily and stared at his slippers. "I know how you said you only Legilimized me to know what spell to use to fix me," Harry nodded slowly, "I figured that I could use my returned memories, since I had them back." Harry nodded again, unsure of where this was going. "Well, now that you have no further use for them… Merlin knows I don't… I don't want them anymore."
"What?"
"The memories."
"What are you…"
"I want you to Obliviate me."
"No. I will not let you run away from this like that." Harry stood, preparing to leave.
"You can't say no to me! I can't go with these -"
"You managed just fine until now. We'll get you potions and everything we can to help you, but -"
"It's not everything! This is the only thing I want. I won't take ten potions at each meal when everything can be fixed with a simple Obliviate!" Draco was shouting, but his throat was still sore and his tone lacked the aggression he was aiming for.
"You said that you hated how you were before."
Draco stared at him, unblinking, then sat heavily on the bed.
"Drink your potion and go to sleep. We'll get through this."
Harry closed the door as Draco tossed the pillow at him, cursing loudly.
- -- - -- -
Draco was silent and morose the entire day following their argument, walking around the house like a grumpy house elf and inspected everything. In the evening, Harry received a formal complaint about the 'deplorable state of this house- if it can be called that', to which he nodded distractedly.
After that, Draco began cleaning the house, complaining about the lack of magic and the difficulty of the task. He mentioned the 'unsanitary owner of the house' and doubled the cleaning potions in the bathroom by owl order. Harry let him have his way, because it kept him occupied and fairly silent.
There had been two seizures, which Draco reported. He said they were better thanks to the potion, but to Harry's surprise, didn't make any further requests to be Obliviated.
Two weeks after beginning his house cleaning, Draco made it to the library. He closed himself inside and ever once in a while, Harry could hear loud thumping noises. He ventured inside once and was assaulted by clouds of dust.
"What the -"
"The library is in a deplorable state, Potter." Draco had some cloth on his mouth, which prevented him from having couching fits caused by the dust, and made him look remarkably like a muggle surgeon. "I'd say you don't know how to read, judging by how often these books have been handled." Harry could see the smirk behind the cloth mask. "But I know for a fact you've served detentions, and you must have read the detention notes, so…"
Harry turned around to hide his smile and left the library. Things were better than he had dared hope for after their little fight.
- -- - -- -
Hermione huffed and let her bag drop on the couch. "These people are absolutely… "
"Ah, you thought that ministry business was simple and pleasant." Draco walked in with a plate, which held two cups of coffee and a glass with something that looked like apple juice. "You should have asked me and I would have told you that the people who work for the ministry are narrow-minded, stubborn and most of all, stupid." He looked at them expecting confirmations and received a very angry glare from Hermione.
"I haven't mentioned that you're working for the ministry," Harry said, trying hard not to laugh.
"You are?" Draco took a sip of apple juice and sat on the couch next to Hermione. "That could be a good thing, I suppose. Unless you don't -" He turned and looked at Hermione, who was still glaring. "You're the same, so the ministry might be better these days."
"We're certainly working to make it better. Arthur discovered two wizards who were boycotting the school selection system and we managed to find new people to set things right."
"What's Weasley's position these days?"
"Minister of Magic."
Draco looked at them with an air of disbelief. "Even I would be a better minister than him."
Before Hermione could say anything, Harry intervened, "Arthur is a competent minister and he knows a lot about the way the ministry functions. He's a lot better than the previous ministers."
"Yes, Potter, but better than the previous ones doesn't mean he's the best there is right now, and I believe that's what we need. I mean, he might know how to run the ministry, but there are a lot of dubious people running around free. Do you think that no one wants power now? And they're not the kind who want to be minister of magic. That's not where the true power lies."
"And where is that?" Hermione asked, captured by Draco's speech.
"In the place formerly occupied by Tom."
"Tom?"
"Voldemort. Merlin, Granger, weren't the three of you inseparable?"
"No, we were -"
"You're right, Draco. Do you have a plan to make sure no one tries to become the next Dark Lord?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione.
"We have a program with the Aurors to report any strange behaviour that might -"
"At the beginnings, the Dark Lord held meetings in which his friends discussed spell development. It took five years for them to discuss muggle-borns at all."
"I can't imagine they didn't discuss it, if that was their primary concern throughout the war."
"They didn't have to discuss it. They were all purebloods - or at least claimed to be - and this was a given. What the ministry needs to look for is groups of people with a similar background."
"Yes, well, we can't start investigating on innocent people who don't -"
"No innocent person will be insulted, unless the Aurors don't do their jobs properly, and then there'll be more than insulting. If you really want to prevent that from happening again, you'll do that."
"We have so much to -"
"Granger! There are free Death Eaters who in a couple of years will start the war again. Is that what you want?"
Hermione looked down, but it was obvious that she wasn't convinced.
"Hermione, we gave Draco to a Death Eater. We investigated him and we couldn't figure out the truth about him. They're out there and I agree that we should do something about it."
"The Aurors can't handle something like that. They're too… unsubtle."
"Get a dozen Slytherins - I can give you the names of muggle born Slytherins who had nothing to do with the war - and get them to do these investigations for you, and after a couple of months you'll see if I was right or not."
"Why would you help us like that?" Hermione asked, studying Draco with narrowed eyes.
"Oh, it might have something to do with the fact that I'm Potter's slave and that the only way in which I can influence my life is by making sure he's happy with me and what I'm doing. That a good enough reason for you?"
Hermione looked down again. "Give me the list and I'll make a suggestion about it to Arthur."
"Granger, if the Death Eaters rise again, and you won't be able to stop them, it's you who has to worry, not me. I'll die on the first day of their reign."