Disclaimer: Just about everything you recognize belongs to Ms Rowling and her publishers. Just about the rest is mine.
CHAPTER FOUR
RENDEZ-VOUS
Twenty minutes into this exchange, Fred and George Weasley dragged the two adolescents apart. And then, it was only because Mrs. Weasley made them. The two boys, the dark-haired one rapidly assuming a black eye and the fair-haired one sporting a cut lip were still hurling insults at each other, from a distance. Harry swore to himself that he would not meet Malfoy later, at five. Draco chided himself silently for asking for the stupid Potter boy's help.
At five in the evening, both boys were seated, quite hidden from view, at a small booth at the Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione had convinced Harry to go.
"But it might not even be Malfoy! And, if it were him, he'd find you a coward if you didn't go."
"I'm not a coward! Fine! I'll go!" with that, Harry stomped off to take his leave from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione just looked smug.
Lucius had insisted that Draco go.
"Too cowardly, boy? Afraid of Potter? Maybe you should reconsider your loyalties...I'm sure the Dark Lord will be only too willing to replace as incompetent a servant as you are..."
That reminded Draco of the importance of this meeting. Needless to say, he went.
* * *
"I didn't think you'd come, Potter."
Harry, still nursing a four-year old grudge and a black eye to top it, growled, "I shouldn't have come."
"You're here now, aren't you? So shut up," Draco replied, signaling for two Butterbeers.
"Fine. Let's get this over and done with. What do you want?" He asked, reaching for a Butterbeer and taking a long sip.
"First. How'd you know it was me?"
"I didn't. Hermione and Ron helped."
"Ha! I should have known you were too dumb to figure out my identity without help from Mudblood and the Weasel!"
"Draco Malfoy, you are dangerously close to making me really, really mad. So I suggest you cut out the insults and just tell me what you want. And oh, at least I have friends who'd help me, unlike you, and I don't have to come begging to my worst enemy."
That shut him up. Somewhat. "I didn't come here to ask for your help. There are plenty of people out there who would be perfectly willing to help me if I needed it. Not, of course, that I do."
Harry's eyebrows lifted questioningly. "So you didn't come here to ask for help. What, then? To profess your undying love for me?"
A faint blush colored the other boy's pale cheeks. Harry marveled at how this little change made him seem so much more human.
"While you may entertain fantasies about me in your sleep, rest assured that such nightmares do not plague me. In fact, I ah...uhh...um. Right. Actually. I'mheretoaskforyourhelp."
Harry would have laughed out loud if it were not for the glare he received from the other boy. He had heard Draco perfectly, of course. So he asked, "Excuse me? I couldn't quite catch that...would you mind repeating it?"
Draco swore under his breath. He gritted his teeth. "You heard me right the first time. I-need-your-help."
Harry's face broke into a grin. He couldn't help it. "Really? How so?"
Draco glared at him again. "The Dark Lord has risen again. Don't look so surprised; you knew it beforehand anyway. You contributed to his resurrection."
Harry winced at his choice of words, but urged him to continue anyway. Of course he would have known - Lucius Malfoy was present at the time.
"So. Many of his former Death Eaters have either been killed or captured, or else they have converted to the Light. These will be hunted down and killed, of course, while those captured will be released. My point is - You-Know-Who needs more supporters. And who would be a better candidate than one of his shrewdest Death Eater's sons? He wanted me to become a Death Eater."
Harry nodded in agreement. He would expect no less from him. Yet he couldn't have expected Draco's next admission.
"Well, the thing is, I don't want to be a Death Eater."
Coming from Draco Malfoy, this was news indeed. Harry was tempted to shake him and yell, "You're not Malfoy! What did you do to him? And thanks, by the way." But he shook his head and repressed the urge to do so. Instead, he asked, carefully, "But...why? I mean, all these years, you've been tormenting us and all...you mean that was all just a show? I..." He was rendered totally speechless.
Draco looked annoyed. "Obviously that was just an act. Couldn't very well live up to my father's reputation by being a goody-two-shoes now, could I? It is imperative that I continue maintaining such an image. Anyway, my father says that there is a way for me to escape the fate of being a Death Eater - a gift of the horn of a Lost Unicorn would be sufficient contribution for the Dark Lord, enough, so that it would not be necessary for me to become one of his minions."
"But what has all this got to do with me?"
"Well...the Unicorn will only allow one who has survived the killing curse to touch it - anyone else who touches it will die."
"I see. But where am I supposed to find this Lost Unicorn? How? And...won't the Unicorn die when its horn is removed?"
"No, of course not. And regarding your other queries - I'd be willing to help. But remember, timing is crucial. My sixteenth birthday falls at the end of January - should the horn not be with us by then, I will be made a Death Eater. Help me, Potter. I don't want to bind myself to evil."
"Draco - I ...I'll help you. I'll help you as much as I can. I'll try, Draco, but that's all I can promise you at the moment. But - don't you think we should call a truce?"
"A truce? Sure. But we do have images to maintain, you know. The trading of insults with every chance meeting is practically mandatory." He smirked, but extended a hand to Harry anyway.
Harry looked up, into Draco's eyes. He steeled his gaze and shook the offered hand firmly.
-TO BE CONTINUED-
A/N:well? howdja like that? comments? criticisms? please review.
Twenty minutes into this exchange, Fred and George Weasley dragged the two adolescents apart. And then, it was only because Mrs. Weasley made them. The two boys, the dark-haired one rapidly assuming a black eye and the fair-haired one sporting a cut lip were still hurling insults at each other, from a distance. Harry swore to himself that he would not meet Malfoy later, at five. Draco chided himself silently for asking for the stupid Potter boy's help.
At five in the evening, both boys were seated, quite hidden from view, at a small booth at the Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione had convinced Harry to go.
"But it might not even be Malfoy! And, if it were him, he'd find you a coward if you didn't go."
"I'm not a coward! Fine! I'll go!" with that, Harry stomped off to take his leave from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione just looked smug.
Lucius had insisted that Draco go.
"Too cowardly, boy? Afraid of Potter? Maybe you should reconsider your loyalties...I'm sure the Dark Lord will be only too willing to replace as incompetent a servant as you are..."
That reminded Draco of the importance of this meeting. Needless to say, he went.
"I didn't think you'd come, Potter."
Harry, still nursing a four-year old grudge and a black eye to top it, growled, "I shouldn't have come."
"You're here now, aren't you? So shut up," Draco replied, signaling for two Butterbeers.
"Fine. Let's get this over and done with. What do you want?" He asked, reaching for a Butterbeer and taking a long sip.
"First. How'd you know it was me?"
"I didn't. Hermione and Ron helped."
"Ha! I should have known you were too dumb to figure out my identity without help from Mudblood and the Weasel!"
"Draco Malfoy, you are dangerously close to making me really, really mad. So I suggest you cut out the insults and just tell me what you want. And oh, at least I have friends who'd help me, unlike you, and I don't have to come begging to my worst enemy."
That shut him up. Somewhat. "I didn't come here to ask for your help. There are plenty of people out there who would be perfectly willing to help me if I needed it. Not, of course, that I do."
Harry's eyebrows lifted questioningly. "So you didn't come here to ask for help. What, then? To profess your undying love for me?"
A faint blush colored the other boy's pale cheeks. Harry marveled at how this little change made him seem so much more human.
"While you may entertain fantasies about me in your sleep, rest assured that such nightmares do not plague me. In fact, I ah...uhh...um. Right. Actually. I'mheretoaskforyourhelp."
Harry would have laughed out loud if it were not for the glare he received from the other boy. He had heard Draco perfectly, of course. So he asked, "Excuse me? I couldn't quite catch that...would you mind repeating it?"
Draco swore under his breath. He gritted his teeth. "You heard me right the first time. I-need-your-help."
Harry's face broke into a grin. He couldn't help it. "Really? How so?"
Draco glared at him again. "The Dark Lord has risen again. Don't look so surprised; you knew it beforehand anyway. You contributed to his resurrection."
Harry winced at his choice of words, but urged him to continue anyway. Of course he would have known - Lucius Malfoy was present at the time.
"So. Many of his former Death Eaters have either been killed or captured, or else they have converted to the Light. These will be hunted down and killed, of course, while those captured will be released. My point is - You-Know-Who needs more supporters. And who would be a better candidate than one of his shrewdest Death Eater's sons? He wanted me to become a Death Eater."
Harry nodded in agreement. He would expect no less from him. Yet he couldn't have expected Draco's next admission.
"Well, the thing is, I don't want to be a Death Eater."
Coming from Draco Malfoy, this was news indeed. Harry was tempted to shake him and yell, "You're not Malfoy! What did you do to him? And thanks, by the way." But he shook his head and repressed the urge to do so. Instead, he asked, carefully, "But...why? I mean, all these years, you've been tormenting us and all...you mean that was all just a show? I..." He was rendered totally speechless.
Draco looked annoyed. "Obviously that was just an act. Couldn't very well live up to my father's reputation by being a goody-two-shoes now, could I? It is imperative that I continue maintaining such an image. Anyway, my father says that there is a way for me to escape the fate of being a Death Eater - a gift of the horn of a Lost Unicorn would be sufficient contribution for the Dark Lord, enough, so that it would not be necessary for me to become one of his minions."
"But what has all this got to do with me?"
"Well...the Unicorn will only allow one who has survived the killing curse to touch it - anyone else who touches it will die."
"I see. But where am I supposed to find this Lost Unicorn? How? And...won't the Unicorn die when its horn is removed?"
"No, of course not. And regarding your other queries - I'd be willing to help. But remember, timing is crucial. My sixteenth birthday falls at the end of January - should the horn not be with us by then, I will be made a Death Eater. Help me, Potter. I don't want to bind myself to evil."
"Draco - I ...I'll help you. I'll help you as much as I can. I'll try, Draco, but that's all I can promise you at the moment. But - don't you think we should call a truce?"
"A truce? Sure. But we do have images to maintain, you know. The trading of insults with every chance meeting is practically mandatory." He smirked, but extended a hand to Harry anyway.
Harry looked up, into Draco's eyes. He steeled his gaze and shook the offered hand firmly.
A/N:well? howdja like that? comments? criticisms? please review.