A/N: Chapter twenty-one: Draco and Pansy talk, and he makes plans for his post-Chrysalis future. Only two chapters left, folks…
This is is Harry/Draco, post-Hogwarts, though the slash content is extremely light. There are very vague suggestions of other relationships as well.
I've got this all written out, and am posting one a week. There will be 23 chapters total. All that's left is the editing.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Dedication: To Foodie, who still betas me despite my predilection for slash, and for FionaFawkes, who read and reviewed every single chapter, and gave me such excellent feedback. Also, for everyone who's read and loved my Harry/Draco. This one's for you.
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The next few days dragged as Draco waited for exact word of what would happen to Pansy and the others. He also spent a great deal of time going over what ifs. What if he'd talked to Pansy more? Maybe they would have caught her before this got so out of hand? Maybe she would have started seeing what he had—that Muggles were just like everyone else, they just didn't have magic. Maybe then she wouldn't be going back to Azkaban.
Harry tried several times to talk to him, but it was hard to meet Harry's eyes now. He'd been right about Pansy, and Draco had refused to believe it. Sure, no one had gotten hurt, but that didn't seem to help him feel much better about it. It got to the point where he began avoiding Harry, even going so far as to retreat to his room when he had no other option. Finally, Harry left him alone. Draco wasn't sure whether that made him happy or sad.
Kingsley allowed Draco to see Pansy one last time before she was taken back to Azkaban. It hadn't been an easy visit. At first Pansy had tried to get him to help her, but when she'd realized he wouldn't, she'd flung accusations at him, a few of which hit particularly close to home. He'd simply stood there, watching her as she ranted, wishing he could somehow fix everything. This was his fault, and he was sure of it. Her tirade wound down, and Draco had tried to pull her into a hug, but she'd hit at him, and moved across the room.
She'd crossed her arms and glowered at him. "What did Potter do to you, Draco? It wouldn't have been this way just six months ago. I don't know how he's managed to brainwash you, but this isn't who you are."
Draco sighed. "All he did, Pansy, was show me the truth about Muggles. He didn't brainwash me. He just helped me think. I'm sorry Aunt Andromeda couldn't do the same."
"Your Aunt spent all her time telling me about her poor dead daughter who fought against us, Draco. How was that supposed to help me?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't know, Pansy. I wish I could have helped you. It didn't have to be this way."
Pansy sniffed. "I suppose you'll go and find some other girl to marry now? Since I doubt they'll allow you those kinds of visitations at Azkaban."
"To be honest, I'm not sure what I'll do. I've never thought of marrying anyone else, Pansy. Just you."
Her eyes softened at that. "Really?"
He nodded, and she hurried towards him, and fell into his arms. Even now that she was back at eighteen and he was only sixteen physically, she still fit just so under his chin. It felt good. And that hurt. "God, Pansy, why didn't you talk to me? Ask to see me? Something?"
"I wanted you to see how I could work things on my own," she said. "I just wanted to show you that I was worthy of being your wife…"
"Couldn't you have done that better by being my wife, Pansy? You know I've never looked at anyone else."
She was quiet for a long time before saying, "You and I both know that's not true, Draco. And we both know the regard is returned, don't we?" Her voice was low, but he could hear her frustration in every syllable.
"What are you talking about?" Did she know how he felt about Harry?
She pulled away and looked up at him. "Draco, from the moment you met Potter, he was all you ever talked about. In fact, that was true even before you met him. It was just worse after. Everything in school was about him. You might have hated him, but it wasn't because you disliked him, it was because he disliked you. You couldn't stand it. I suppose now, you're free to act on it." Her face was pained and angry.
"Are you saying I had a crush on him?" he asked, incredulously.
"Please, Draco. It was the joke of Slytherin House. Every time you started ranting on about him, we all just glanced at each other and rolled our eyes. Blaise hated it, though."
"I do recall a biting comment or two from his direction, but I thought he was just annoyed at my griping…"
Pansy sighed. "And then you were so busy sixth year with your task… You might not have noticed, but I did. He watched you all the time. I really hated that."
"Pansy, whatever you think—"
"Doesn't matter, because I'm not going to be there, am I?" she said in a bitter voice. Draco wanted to say something to reassure her somehow, but there was nothing he could say that would deny that. She laughed sourly. "I saw the way you looked at each other at the test. You don't even realize how you look at each other. I wish you looked like that when you looked at me, but you don't. I'm just a comfortable piece of furniture," she shrugged. "So now I'm out of the way. Just—get him this time?"
Draco's heart sank. He hadn't even looked at Harry since what had happened to Pansy. He hadn't been able to. He remembered their fight Christmas Eve, and the conversation the next morning. It wasn't going to happen, and he knew it. Harry would just keep avoiding the subject, and let him go. It wasn't fair. Did he have to lose everyone in his life?
"Pansy…"
"No more, okay? I—I can't do this any more, Draco. Just—be good to yourself, okay?" He nodded, and she moved to the door, and knocked on it. "He's ready to leave," she told the guard.
It had been hard to go home after that. Even the realization that Harry's house had become "home" was difficult. He just wanted a way to get through to Harry, because right now, what he needed was Harry's arms around him.
He still hadn't thought of anything by the time he'd made it to Harry's house.
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Draco and Harry were now awkward around each other all the time. Draco never knew what to say to Harry any more, and when he tried, he couldn't manage more than a few words before he stopped again. Frequently he or Harry would leave the room if they saw the other was there already. Draco spent all of his time either in his bedroom, or in the Den playing Civilizations. The only time they spent more than a few minutes in the same room was when they were eating meals together.
Draco woke up the morning his body turned seventeen, and realized he had no idea what he wanted from life now. Pansy was gone, Harry was avoiding him, and it would be years before his father was allowed to handle his own finances again. In essence, Draco was now the head of the Malfoy family. He still had deed to the Manor, and a few of their homes on the Continent, plus an account at Gringotts that the Ministry hadn't been able to confiscate. Perhaps it was time he put them to good use.
That morning, after breakfast, he owled Kingsley Shacklebolt and asked if he could be allowed to visit Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, and if Kingsley would escort him there. Kingsley arrived to answer personally, a bemused expression on his face. The trip was quiet. Draco wasn't sure what, exactly he wanted from this trip, but it was time to look at the Manor again.
The wards accepted the car, since he was in it, and they drove up the still well-groomed drive, then parked in front of the main doors. Obviously the house-elves were still in residence, so they had been continuing to do their jobs as though told to do so only the day before.
The house was in excellent condition, no dust or cobwebs, the rugs clean and well-kept. The portraits seemed a bit huffy that none of the Malfoys had been around lately, but he shrugged them off and continued to make his way through the house.
Kingsley had been quiet at first, but by the time they made their way to the second floor, he was spending half his time glancing between Draco and some of the objects decorating the Manor. Finally, he seemed unable to keep himself from commenting. "Draco, you do realize…"
"That you'll be required to confiscate some of these things? Yes. Why do you think I brought you? I really just want to make up a list of what's here, what should be sold, and what needs to go to the Ministry."
"And then what?"
"I haven't thought that far, to be honest. This was home, you know? But now it just seems big, and rather empty, really."
"Will you be staying on with Harry, then?"
Draco shook his head. "I don't think so. We're friends now, but even so—"
"I'm sure he'd want you to stay. You seem to be getting along quite well."
Draco frowned. Not any more, he thought to himself. Sure, they hadn't been fighting, but they weren't being overly friendly, either. "I think I make him uncomfortable, to be honest."
"Ah," Kingsley said with a nod. "Still, you never know. That might go away, after…"
Draco snorted. "After I'm of age again? I don't know. Maybe. But even then, I still need to decide what to do with all this," he waved at the house around him. "It can't just keep sitting here, empty. And I'm obviously not going to be having that passel of kids with Pansy…" He sighed. "It should be put to some use, you know?"
Kingsley nodded. "Maybe you should ask Harry and Remus what they think?"
"Perhaps."
Rather than thinking about what Harry or Remus might suggest, Draco called for a house-elf, and asked it to bring him a piece of parchment and a dictating quill. Then he and Kingsley began discussing which things the Ministry would have to confiscate, and the pen jotted down those things that Kingsley and Draco agreed upon. It was a long list.
He came home that night, little happier about his future, but at least feeling better that some of the dark objects his father had hidden away in the Manor would now be used for research, or at least be unable to hurt anyone else again.
When he arrived, Remus and Lucius were nowhere to be found. Harry was sitting in the living room waiting for him. He looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. "Did everything go well?"
Draco shrugged. "Well enough. Where are Lucius and Remus?"
"They went to visit Severus for the evening. I…I thought maybe we could try to talk."
Draco sighed. "No offence, Harry, but neither of us have been particularly talkative lately."
Harry smiled sadly. "I know. I just wasn't sure how to help. I know it couldn't be easy, losing your future bride like that, and I didn't want to push. I…I don't want to upset you more."
Draco didn't know if he wanted to escape, or if he wanted Harry to hug him. He'd missed Harry's easy touches the past two weeks. He'd gotten so used to them that he hadn't even noticed them until they were gone. "I didn't want you to feel you had to do anything, really. I figured if I said anything, you'd think I was just trying…" Draco closed his eyes and sank onto the couch.
"Draco?" Harry asked worriedly, moving to his side, his hand settling on Draco's shoulder. Draco shuddered at the touch. It felt so good. He turned and buried his face in Harry's shoulder.
"I don't want to go," he mumbled. "I'm not ready yet."
"What?" Harry asked. "I can't understand what you're saying, Draco. Look at me?"
Draco pulled away from Harry's shoulder, and looked up into his face. "I—I'm not ready to leave."
Harry frowned. "Who's going to make you leave?"
"You. It's been bloody obvious that you're uncomfortable around me now. And I don't want your attention just because you pity me for losing Pansy. I just…I'm not ready yet."
"You've got two weeks, Draco. And I'm certainly not just going to throw you out." He took a deep breath. "I like having you here, Draco. I'm just—I'm trying not to do something stupid and make everything worse."
"You couldn't possibly make anything worse at this point, Harry. I deserve everything I get, to be honest. I can't believe she did that." He looked down at his hands. The pain of what had happened with Pansy was still a raw wound. He couldn't imagine how he could do anything now. Everything had depended on Pansy being there.
"Draco, I know it's upsetting, but you'll find a way to make something of your life. That's why I did this. You're an exceptionally strong person. And I knew you were worth the effort."
"Why? What makes me worth your effort? You don't even want me. If you did…"
Harry closed his eyes. "Draco, it's not like that. Good people, when they want something, they follow the rules. If they can't have it, then they find a way to do without. I can't force you to want me—"
"I do!"
"—Or to get over Pansy that quick, and you shouldn't expect yourself to, either. I know you're curious, Draco, but…I need more than curiosity. And until you're willing—and able—to give that, then I'll just have to wait."
Draco bit his lip. He hated to admit it, but Harry did have a point. He wasn't being torn between Harry and Pansy any longer, but he was having trouble letting go of the future he'd imagined with Pansy. "So, how will you know if I'm telling you the truth when I say I'm ready?"
Harry sighed. "I don't know, Draco. I wish I did."
