A/N: This was written for the weekly Dictionary Drabbles challenge on the Beloved Enemies mailing list. The theme word for this piece was "Karma," meaning "the force generated by a person's actions; held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person's next existence."

Word count: 579

BAD KARMA


"Master Draco is waiting for you in the library, Master Harry sir."


Harry glanced up at the house elf bobbing nervously in his bedroom doorway. "I'll be down momentarily, Lucky," he said, turning back to the mirror to finish buttoning his shirt. The elf bowed and scurried off.


Harry took his time choosing a vest and tie. After so many years of being forbidden to wear any clothing at all, he now took great pleasure in the mechanics of getting dressed. Besides, it wouldn't hurt Draco to wait for a change.


When he was satisfactorily attired, he began the long walk from the bedroom level of Malfoy Manor down to the library. He unconsciously soothed himself by running one hand repeatedly down the middle of his chest as he walked, a nervous habit he had acquired after watching Lucius do it for so many years. He hated these monthly meetings with Draco.


The Manor belonged to Harry now, a gift from the Ministry of Magic after Lucius had been killed by Aurors five years earlier. A search of the house after its owner's death had revealed a startling secret - a battered, emaciated Harry lying chained to a bed in a locked room. "We thought you were dead," a dazed Arthur Weasley explained when Harry asked why no one had come looking for him sooner. "Killed in the war." Arthur was Minister of Magic by then, and he decided to give Harry the Manor - as well as the rest of Lucius's assets - as recompense for the years he had lost to Lucius's abuse. "It's not enough," Arthur acknowledged sadly, "but it's the best we can do."


Draco had fought like a madman to get his family's property back, of course, but in the end he had lost. Now he was forced to live on the small monthly allowance Harry had agreed to provide him in a moment of kindness he now regretted. But having suffered such misery for so long, Harry found he couldn't bear the idea of anyone else suffering.


Not even Draco.


Lucky was dangling in mid-air when Harry stepped into the library, his face twisted with fear. "Let him down, Draco," Harry sighed, and a moment later the elf fell, squealing loudly, to the hard marble floor.


"Damn elf was touching Father's cane," Draco growled as the elf painfully regained his feet. The ebony and silver cane was the only one of Lucius's belongings Harry had allowed Draco to keep. "Where did you find this miserable creature anyway, Potter? He wasn't here when I lived here."


"No," Harry said, signing the Gringott's voucher that would allow Draco to make his monthly withdrawal. "I don't know where he came from. He showed up here shortly after your father died."


"I would advise you to teach him his place, Potter," Draco snapped, snatching the voucher from Harry's hand. "Pathetic little wretch."


"Show Master Draco to the door, Lucky," Harry said, cutting Draco off before he could wind himself up into a full-blown rant.


"Don't bother," Draco replied nastily. "I grew up here. I know the way." He gave Lucky a vicious kick on his way past, then swept out of the library with a swish of his shabby robes.


Harry sighed again. "All right, Lucky, get back to work cleaning out the fireplaces, please," he said.


"Yes, Master Harry, sir," Lucky squeaked, unconsciously running one hand down the middle of his chest as he scampered away.