Author: ICountCrows
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, setting, or much of the basis for the plot of this story. That is all property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, and Arthur A. Levine Books.
Summary: A POV story in which Harry and the gang return to Hogwarts for their fifth year. Harry is extremely vigilant this year because he feels responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and Draco has gone through a transformation as well...
Chapter: Due - An Emerald Agreement
Chapter Warnings: None
Harry
'Now, or never,' I told myself. 'You have to do this.'
"Malfoy, I have some things to say to you," I said as sternly as my voice would allow. It was almost frightening how much I sounded like my Uncle Vernon...If I had been paying closer attention to my nemesis, I would have seen him falter slightly, but I was much too preoccupied with my own forced confidence.
I took a deep breath. "I know you hate me, Malfoy. And I've hated you back for as long as I can remember." I stopped. Was I really doing this? "But it's all so stupid and petty," I continued. "It's...For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, it's childish."
Was this really happening? No, I couldn't be saying these things to a Death Eater's son! "We were first years," I babbled on nervously. "Ron was my only friend, and you insulted him. I had no choice! It was my duty to hate you." My stomach was killing me and alarms were going off in my head, trying to alert the idiot speaking in my mouth that this could all end dreadfully.
"Things are different, now, Malfoy. Things are more serious now." My next carefully planned statement caught in my throat. "Cedric Diggory - he's dead. I..." I gulped, fighting back the memories from the past year, from the nightmares that plagued me all through the summer. "I can't have trivial things like this hanging over my head, too."
Finally, I raised my head. The look on Draco Malfoy's face was one so unfamiliar to me that I almost forgot what the issue at hand was; I almost stared. There was confusion there, and skepticism. There was something different about it, though - just different. A moment of inspection and I realized with a start what it was. The malice was gone from his eyes. The deep pools of grey looked almost...exposed? The cold hatred that had clothed them since the first time I met him was gone, leaving them naked.
One of his aristocratic, perfectly plucked eyebrows arched high above the other. He did not speak. He did not look as if he could.
Slowly and deliberately, I delivered my last line.
"I want to make peace."
Draco
My heart had been trying to beat out of my chest throughout Potter's entire monologue. As soon as he had said he wanted to talk, I had been convinced it was all over. With those words, I had seen my father taken away, my mother losing control, and me, left all alone with only one vile option for survival: becoming a Death Eater.
But peace with Potter? Had he gone stark-raving mad? He couldn't mean it. He was The Boy Who Lived, the natural-born enemy of the Dark Lord, and he found out my father was a Death Eater before I did. No, it just didn't make any sense. He had to have some ulterior motive...
I almost laughed out loud at my own ridiculous thought. The Golden Boy? With an ulterior motive? I knew at once it wasn't possible. Potter wasn't capable of such a thing. He didn't grow up having to lie and inflict and endure pain to survive. No, Harry Potter was too much of a saint to have an ulterior motive. He was too honest, too brave and loyal...He was too Gryffindor to lie.
So I was left with a choice. Refuse his friendship and be like my bastard of a father, or accept, and maybe write my own death sentence. Still, being on Harry Potter's good side could have its benefits. I might be able to convince him to spare my family, for one...
"My father," I began quietly, not thinking.
"First off," Harry interrupted, "I am not offering peace with your father." His voice was at first irritable. Then, softer, he added, "And secondly, you probably shouldn't talk about it here."
I felt my face threaten to flush, but managed to keep it under control. He was right. I had been foolish to speak so freely of something that could so easily destroy my life. But it was so hard to believe...
It didn't matter. I had no time to think. The choice was now; the decision was now. The time was now.
I stuck out my hand and immediately remembered the first day I met him, when all I wanted was for The Boy Who Lived to be my friend. All I had wanted that day was for Harry Potter to like me.
And as I stood there, staring at my outstretched hand and praying to the gods that he would take it, I realized that nothing had changed.
His strong, tanned hand grasped my pale, effeminate one, and I swore I could feel his power and determination, his pure unadulterated strength, living in his handshake. I felt as though holding Excalibder itself would not have given me a bigger rush of the power I had always been trained to crave. I raised my stunned eyes to his and there was an agreement there, set in the precious stone of emerald, that I could only hope I confirmed in dull granite.
The Golden Boy took his hand back in due time and turned to go, but I knew I couldn't let it end yet. There were still some questions left unanswered.
"Potter," I called. He turned to face me. "Harry." His name came out easier than I had expected. "Can you get out after the feast tonight? Without anyone seeing you?"
He nodded slowly and brushed a piece of satiny black hair from his face.
"Meet me at the quidditch pitch, then."
Harry nodded again, and that was it. He was gone.
But I still had some things to say.
********** * **********
There's two for you. You like? Yes? No? R/R, please! And flame me, please! I don't give a damn! Anyways, here are some teasers for chapter three.
- Will they be friends for real, or is Draco just trying to clear his family name?
- And most importantly, just what will those lovely young men be doing at the quidditch pitch later? *waggles eyebrows*