The Houses Competition (THC), Round 9.
House: Gryffindor
Class: Charms
Category: Drabble
Theme: Good vs Evil
Prompt: [Quote] "The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity." - Amelia Earhart
Rating: T
Word Count: 996
Beta(s): Charlie9646, TheFrenchPress
Warnings: N/A
…
Summary: Draco discovers that he and Regulus Black have a few things in common.
…
Draco stood stiffly in the otherwise empty bedroom, glancing around the space. He'd never stepped foot in the house before today. Potter had invited him after the trials and hearings had concluded, and he was–remarkably–allowed to remain a free wizard.
He'd much rather be with his mother in France. The Wizengamot might have decided he'd done enough to avoid Azkaban, but he couldn't bring himself to face those who'd nearly died because of the role he played in the war. People had buried their loved ones because of him.
Potter had persisted, insisting there was something in the house he needed to see. He had led him upstairs, past a portrait-sized hole in the wall that Potter had tapped fondly.
They'd finally stopped at a door marked by a sign that read: 'Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black'.
Draco vaguely knew who Regulus Black was…a distant cousin who'd been a Death Eater, brother to Potter's godfather.
It shouldn't surprise him how closely their families were connected, but it did.
"What am I doing here, Potter?" he'd asked, once they were inside the room.
"Wait here a moment. I have something for you to read." And the black-haired wizard had walked away from the room, leaving him alone with the dust and dark furnishings.
Despite the obvious Slytherin decorations, he felt thoroughly out of place here. An intruder in the home of the man murdered by his deranged aunt, for a cause that he'd blindly believed in until it was almost too late.
That truth still felt weak and insufficient, pouring over his lips like a toxic lie, even though it had been the truth.
What could Potter possibly have to say to him to show him? And what did it have to do with Regulus Black?
Potter returned as though the thought had summoned him, holding a small piece of parchment in his hand. "Here we are."
Draco eyed the parchment suspiciously. "What's that?"
Harry rubbed his fingers over the note, remembering the first time he'd found it. "You know that Regulus Black was a Death Eater? That he'd joined when he was young…almost as young as you?"
Draco's jaw clenched. "Your point, Potter?"
Harry almost smiled, but thought better of it. "You and he have some things in common, Malfoy." He held the page out to him.
"If this is your way of telling me you won't forget the evil I've done, you're wasting your time," Draco spat. "I can assure you, I know exactly who–and what–I am."
Harry sighed. "Just read it, Malfoy."
The quicker he did so, the quicker he could leave this place and follow his mother to France. Draco took the note, unfolding it in his hands and taking in the scratchy words.
To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
Draco read the words once, twice, and again, swallowing a lump in his throat as he forced himself to meet Potter's eyes.
"R.A.B. Regulus…?" His voice faltered weakly.
"He saw Voldemort for who he really was. Despite being raised to believe in blood purity—hating Muggles and Muggleborns—he turned against him in the end. He did what he could to undo some of the damage he'd helped cause." Potter's eyes bored into his unwaveringly.
Draco stepped back, finding purchase against the bed-frame and sinking down onto the dusty mattress. He fell silent, thinking about what Regulus had done. The defiance he'd shown…
"I'm not like him, Potter," Draco whispered finally. "I didn't make a grand stand against him, I didn't destroy his Horcruxes…I couldn't even stand against my father."
Harry shook his head. "You could have identified me–in the manor. We both know you knew it was me. You could have handed me over and brought your family back into Voldemort's good graces."
Draco flinched at the name.
"But you didn't. You didn't turn me over, you didn't kill Dumbledore…"
Another flinch.
"We may never be best mates, Malfoy. But you have more in common with Regulus Black than your father. You may have been raised to believe a lot of awful things, but when it counts, you're a better man than that. I thought you should know that."
Draco shook his head, staring at Regulus's note. "It's too late for me, Potter. What I am…"
The other man shook his head. "No such thing as too late, Malfoy. You just have to decide it's worth it." Harry pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket. "Hermione wrote this quote down for me–knew I'd butcher it if I tried to remember it," he added with a chuckle.
Draco regarded Harry with a frown as he read from an even smaller scrap of parchment.
"The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is mere tenacity." Harry lowered the paper, handing it to Draco as well. "Good, evil…we both know how blurry that line can be. You can always make the choice to be better, Malfoy. We both can."
He held his hand out then, in front of Draco's eyes, echoing a moment from so long ago, when they really were just children. "I can help you there, Malfoy."
Draco looked from his outstretched hand, to the papers in his lap, regarding the weight of that handshake.
The most difficult thing is the decision to act…
If his mother could lie to the Dark Lord's face, if Regulus Black could steal from him and brazenly throw it in his face…he could do this. He could choose to be good.
Draco reached out and shook Harry Potter's hand. "Only took us eight bloody years, Potter."
…
The end.