Chapter 10 - Hated on Both Sides

Reporters. Harry hated reporters. Draco had encouraged him to be friendly with them, but Harry couldn't see the point. Once the issue of the Quibbler was out the owls began pouring in. Some from supporters, others from people more reluctant to believe the truth about Snape. And about a third of the letters came from reporters. Hermione had appointed herself his official letter opener and he was shocked when she told him how many there were.

"I didn't think there were that many reporters in the country!"

"Of course there aren't, Harry." Ginny rolled her eyes. She had accompanied Hermione to Grimmauld Place that particular afternoon. Ron was sulking because Hermione was going to see Harry, and as Ginny wasn't interested in being with her brother when he was in that kind of mood, she invited herself along.

"These are coming from all over Europe and America. Every paper in the wizarding world wants to get your story."

"What would they want with me?"

Ginny laughed a little at his naivety. "Harry, you're famous. The whole world has heard of the war here. How could they not? The Death Eaters were recruiting all over Europe. I'm sure they all heard about the end just hours after it happened. Dad says if it weren't for the travel restrictions the Ministry has in place then there would be all sorts of people here interviewing everyone involved."

Harry scowled. "I don't like being famous."

"I don't much care for it either," said Hermione.

"You?"

She sighed. "Well, yes. Up until the article came out Ron and I had managed to escape a lot of the attention. Now though..."

"You should have seen it, Harry. We went to Diagon Alley before we came here and she couldn't even get in to Flourish and Blotts, there were so many people crowding around her. And they're both getting tons of mail at the house."

"I'm sorry. If I had known how much trouble it was going to cause I would have never done it."

"Don't be ridiculous. With everything else we've been through with you, do you think we mind a little extra owl post?"

"I'm sure Ron does," Harry grumbled.

"No actually he got an offer from Witch Weekly to be in their Heroes of the War special edition. He's quite pleased about that."

"That's an understatement," said Ginny. "I haven't seen anyone gloat so much since Percy made Head Boy."

Harry laughed a little. If anyone had the right to be mad at him it was Ginny, but here she was, as good a friend as ever.

"I'm surprised they didn't ask me to be in it."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and put her hands on her hips. "What's the point of my sorting your mail if you never read any of it? You got the same offer from them yesterday."

"Neville said that he did too, even though he's already been on the cover once."

"When did you see Neville, Ginny?"

Ginny wasn't taking the summer classes, so she didn't have reason to be running into Neville. Not that she didn't have the right to catch up with an old friend, but Harry was more curious about the blush that spread across her cheeks after Hermione asked the question.

"I may have bumped into him in Diagon Alley." Harry would have let that be explanation enough, but Hermione narrowed her eyes, forcing the answer out of her. "Okay, fine. We met for lunch."

"There's nothing wrong with that, but why didn't you tell us you'd seen him?"

"Actually that's not the first time we met up. I ran into him the day that Ron started hexing Harry in class. He wanted to know what was going on, so I told him. Then he asked if I'd like to talk about it... well we've been meeting up to chat every day or two."

Hermione grinned. "You and Neville?"

"No! Nothing like that! We're good friends is all."

"Okay," Hermione replied. She shared a sly glance with Harry though, indicating that she didn't believe it was only friendship that either of them had on their minds.

"That was quick," said Harry pretending to feel insulted.

"I'm serious. We're only friends. Besides, you didn't expect me to pine after you forever, did you?"

"Of course not. But Neville?"

"We were the leaders of the resistance after all," Ginny reminded them.

"You two and Luna went through a lot together," Hermione nodded. "I suppose it only makes sense you would have gotten close."

"Hey if you start dating Neville, does that mean that Ron will talk to me again?"

"I don't know. He's pretty out of sorts. That's why I haven't told anyone that I'm talking to Neville. Merlin knows how Ron would react. He'd probably say that I'm just trying to erase the memory of you and then Neville would be in trouble too."

"Right."

"I'm sorry. Nothing we've said has got him to come around. It's a lot more than just our relationship that's bothering him."

"God, this is so fucked up." Harry slumped in his chair, nearly giving up hope on getting his life back to something near normal.

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"Just fucking forget Weasley."

Malfoy could always be counted on for words of wisdom. It was lunch on Friday. Two and a half weeks after Ron stopped talking to Harry. And why was he always finding himself having lunch with Malfoy anyway? It wasn't as if he hadn't had plenty of offers from the others. Luna, Neville, Dean and Lavender had all asked him to take lunch with them at some point during the feud. But here he was, sitting across the table from Malfoy again.

"I can't just forget him. He's my best friend."

"Can't be that good a friend if he walked out on you."

Twice, Harry's brain reminded him. This was the second time Ron walked out on him in the past year. Granted, this time wasn't under such dire circumstances, but it still made twice.

"Quit sulking." Malfoy didn't even look at him this time when he said it. He was busy writing notes in his Transfiguration book.

"I'm not."

"Of course you're not. You know, you can do a lot better than him."

"Like you? You want to be my new best friend?"

Draco smiled. "At least I have taste and breeding on my side."

"Just shut up about Ron."

"I will when you stop moping. It's getting tiring. You need to go over the healing potions again. Only a month until N.E.W.T.s."

"You sound like Hermione now. Let's just do it tomorrow. You're coming to your aunt's again, right?"

"No." It was the first time the scratching of the quill on the book had stopped in some time.

"No? Why not?"

He finally glanced up then, an amused expression across his face. "You going to miss me, Potter?"

"No," Harry sneered back in reply. "I just wondered why you wouldn't be there."

"Er... Mother and I are going to see Father."

"Oh." Well, that did explain things. "Well, that's... good."

"Yes, it is."

Neither one of them knew how to navigate this topic. On one hand, Lucius Malfoy had done a number of horrible things over the years and deserved every minute he spent in prison. On the other hand, he was Draco's father, and Harry knew that they were a close family.

"I didn't know they were allowing Azkaban visits now." Harry was studying his papers carefully to avoid Draco's gaze.

"Part of the new Ministry reforms. From what I've heard it's more like the way muggle prisons work."

Harry nodded. "Teddy is spending all day Sunday with me. I thought Andromeda would like a quiet house for a few hours. Hermione and Ginny are coming over. And probably Neville."

Draco frowned. "I thought you broke up with the Weaslette."

"I did. And don't call her that."

"You're spending a lot of time with her this week."

"You seem to be noticing a lot about who I spend time with, Malfoy." The blond scowled at him. "We're just friends. And I think Neville is interested in her anyway."

"Longbottom? Talk about trading down."

"Neville's a good guy."

Draco rolled his eyes, but then went back to his book. "I'm not going to discuss Longbottom's attributes. The fact remains that she went from you to him. That is what we call trading down."

"Just because I'm the big hero doesn't mean– "

"Oh, I wasn't even referring to your social statuses. It's just common sense."

"What's wrong with Neville?"

"Possibly nothing. But any person in their right mind would still pick you over him."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Given this a lot of thought, have you?"

"Not really, no. But given the choice between you and him, even I would pick you. And that is saying something."

"Malfoy, no offense or anything, maybe you like to talk about blokes, but this whole conversation is really weird for me."

"So sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, Potter."

Harry watched him scribble in his book for several more seconds, unsure whether he should ask what he was thinking. Malfoy seemed very matter-of-fact about choosing between two guys. If Harry had been asked to pick between two blokes he would have probably sputtered stupidly for several minutes before even attempting to find any sort of answer. It wasn't that he was particularly homophobic or anything, but the topic of sexuality had always made him feel somewhat uncomfortable, and even embarrassed. Harry didn't really care whether Malfoy liked blokes or not, but he certainly wasn't going to discuss it with him.

For the first time in years, Harry remembered the first time he had that embarrassed feeling. It was several years ago when he had been back at Privet Drive for the summer. He was in a shop with Aunt Petunia and Dudley (Mrs. Figg had been unable to watch Harry that day) when they noticed two men holding hands. Petunia had huffed, annoyed at the site, but Harry kept staring at them, amazed at how happy they looked together. One would think from the way his aunt and uncle talked about "those fags" that they were miserable, mean people. His aunt kept glancing at them cautiously the whole time she shopped, as if afraid they would attack. When one of the men leaned over and kissed the other lightly on the cheek she mumbled "that's just sick," and hurried him and Dudley into the next aisle of the store. Harry, on the other hand, hadn't felt sick seeing them kiss. No, sick wasn't right, but there had been something. Some little flip in his stomach, something that made him blush to think of and he didn't even know why. The vision of them had stayed with him for the entire afternoon and when he finally put it to rest, he concluded that it was merely strange for him to see any public displays of affection. After all, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rarely kissed, even in their own home.

Perhaps Malfoy hadn't meant anything by the conversation and Harry was completely overreacting. Perhaps there was nothing more to the comments about choosing between him and Neville than Malfoy's typical banter. But Harry couldn't help noticing that the squirming feeling in his stomach was back and it annoyed him that the subject got to him so easily.

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Despite the changes made to it, Azkaban Prison was just as intimidating as it always had been. Draco and Narcissa apparated outside the fortress at just five minute till noon. Visitors were only allowed between twelve and two in the afternoon and they had to be signed in, with wands checked at the door, before they would be shown to the cells.

"Straighten your robes for your father, Draco."

He knew damn well that his robes were just fine, but made a show of adjusting them for her as they walked toward the gate surrounding the building. They could see others being let in the gate by Ministry Aurors, and more apparating behind them. It was the first time visitors were allowed into the prison and, although Draco hadn't thought of it previously, it made sense they would run into others. Perhaps even others that they knew well. And a brief moment of panic hit Draco when he realized that many of his old classmates had family here now. As they drew closer he noticed the people at the gate; Mrs. Goyle with her oldest son. He heard Greg had been released from the hospital that week. He and his father were both in Azkaban now.

"Draco?"

He spun around at the sound of his voice. Pansy. She was standing just in front of her parents, wearing a huge smile.

"I knew it was you!"

She began to walk toward Draco, but her father caught her shoulder as he glared at Draco. Pansy's smile was quickly replaced by fear as she stared up at her father. She looked back at Draco with a small, weak smile. He turned away again without so much as a nod of acknowledgment to either of them. His mother had watched the exchange, but was now looking straight ahead to the prison guards.

They were processed in ten minutes and Draco reluctantly handed his wand over. It hadn't left his side since Harry gave it back to him, but his mind quickly moved on to other things as they were led toward Lucius' cell.

"We have to lock the door behind you, ma'am," the guard said, as he opened the heavy iron door. "Standard precaution. If you need anything, we're out here in the hall."

"I don't expect to, but thank you." She entered the cell and stopped dead, so that Draco nearly ran into her back. "Lucius," she breathed.

Draco, being a couple inches taller than his mother, looked out over her head. It was better than he thought it would be. The stories Father told of his time in Azkaban before were horrible. In addition to the Dementors, the prison had been cold and drafty, with only very primitive living quarters. He hadn't even looked like himself when he came home. Now though, the cells were better. Perhaps not overly comfortable, but pleasant. Livable. Lucius was clean shaven, wearing very plain gray robes. The bed actually had fresh sheets and it appeared he was allowed to even read the newspaper.

Draco was pulled from his thoughts by the loud clang of the cell door and realized that his mother and father had already greeted each other and were now looking at him expectantly.

"Draco, I'm so glad you were able to come."

He gave his father a brief hug and they all sat down. Draco took the one chair in the room, while his parents sat on Lucius' small bed, holding hands as they did so.

"How have you been, dear?" he asked his wife.

"Well. It's... We miss you."

"I miss you too." He touched her cheek with his free hand, frowning slightly. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I couldn't save us."

"But we're all still here. You can't be home, but we're still alive. That's what matters, isn't it?"

He nodded, seemingly unable to speak. He squeezed her hand tightly. "It is. You're right, love."

Draco had never seen his father quite like this. When he was young, Lucius had been strong and brave and proud. When Voldemort returned he was a servant. After his first visit to Azkaban he had been... different. Less sure of himself. Afraid. But this Lucius wasn't any of the other versions and it unnerved Draco to think that perhaps his father had finally been broken.

"Draco? Tell me, what have you been doing?"

"I've been taking the N.E.W.T. classes at the Ministry. Mother thought..." but he trailed off, knowing that his mother now would never insist on his going. She rescued him from having to explain though.

"I thought it would be good for him to get back out there. To hold his head high. If we hide now, we hide forever."

Father nodded. He didn't have his usual advice on protecting their public image, but he did look thoughtful.

"There is something else I should tell you Lucius. I have been getting out of the manor lately too. I've been visiting my sister."

"But I thought Bella– "

"Of course not Bella. Andromeda." He scowled at the name, but she kept going. "Nymphadora and her husband were killed in the battle and she is raising her grandson alone."

"But Cissa..."

"No Lucius. This matter is not open for debate. I love you. You know that I do. But I will not discuss this with you."

"Cissa, she's a blood traitor." The words were practically whispered and his face was twisted into the familiar angry scowl. To anyone else he may have been the same, commanding head of the Malfoy family, but Draco noticed something missing from his eyes. They didn't shine like they used to. He could remember being completely terrified by his father's temper at times. He just didn't have much fight left in him.

"I know what she is and what her grandson is. I also know what I became the moment I lied to the Dark Lord."

He still wasn't happy, but at them mention of her betrayal, his face changed and he seemed only worried.

"I hear whispers, Cissa. The others know what you did. And if people in here know, then you can bet that those still on the outside do. I am afraid they will be looking for you. There are many who haven't been captured yet."

"We are protected. The Manor wards are stronger than ever and the Ministry has still been watching us."

"Mother, the Parkinsons," Draco reminded her. He knew why she wouldn't mention that to her husband, but Draco thought he should know.

"What? What of them?" Lucius didn't generally overreact, so the alarm in his voice sent a shiver of fear down Draco's spine.

"There was a brief encounter with Petruchio Parkinson at the front gate."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing," replied Draco. "Pansy wanted to speak to me, but he held her back."

"Cissa, Petruchio's brother, Proteus, was killed in the last part of the battle, and Dolohov was their cousin. It is because of your lie to the Dark Lord that they are dead. His son was captured and is in a cell just down this corridor. He wants revenge and his family will take it."

"I know our situation, Lucius. Perhaps better than you do. We are hated on both sides. Don't think it hasn't been hard for us at home. But I wouldn't take it back. I would lie to him again if it saved Draco and destroyed that monster."

"Cissa!"

She turned away from him and when she spoke next Draco had a hard time hearing what she said. "You hated him too."

"There is a difference between thinking something and saying out loud for all to hear!"

She turned back to him and Draco saw her eyes gleam with tears that she would never allow to fall. "Go ahead and keep your secrets then, Lucius. I will not. In the end, it was Potter, not our Lord, whom we served faithfully, who saved our son. He would have killed Draco for control of a wand. Nothing else matters."

"Cissa..." He was breathing fast and seemed to be at a loss for words, his face turning red with suppressed anger.

"Father, don't worry about us," Draco tried to change the subject. "We're very careful at home. The wards are more powerful than they were before. And I've been apparating directly into the Ministry."

That seemed to calm him some and they were able to finish their visit with polite, if a little forced, conversation. It seemed entirely too soon that the guard came back to the door and told them that visiting time was over. They got up, said their good-byes and made their way to the door.

"And Cissa?" She turned and gave him a questioning look. "If you've been seeing your sister, have her double her wards as well. It wouldn't be unlike them to attack her to get to you."

She gave him a small smile and nodded.

"I just don't want them to cause you any more pain."

"We'll be fine, Lucius. I promise."

As they followed the guard down the corridor they noticed the Parkinsons emerging from one of the cells. Pansy was ghostly white and her mother cried quietly into a handkerchief. Draco caught Pansy's eyes and they widened in surprise, or maybe fear. She shook her head slightly and turned away. Mr. Parkinson glared at him once more, then looked past him to his mother, but didn't say a word as he led his family out of the prison. Narcissa must have seen the hatred in the man's eyes, for she clutched Draco's arm tightly. He had never been more thankful to see his wand again.

"Draco, we apparate as soon as we're outside the gate. Stop for no one."

He nodded to his mother, noticing the edge of fear in her voice. She apparently wasn't as confident of their safety as she had let on to her husband. They were safe inside the prison grounds, but if they lurked too long on the outside, it would only invite trouble from the other visitors. And they both knew what kind of people they were dealing with.

A/N: Yes, I stole names from Shakespeare for the Parkinsons. :) Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! Like I said before, I've got several chapters ahead planned out (and made even more progress this week) but I'm a little behind in the actual writing of them. I know I always say this, but it may be a while between updates. I've got tests going on for the next two weeks and the holidays are already stressing me out. I want to keep to posting about once a week like I have been, but it's going to be hard to find the time. I will be very glad when Christmas is over.