CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
[I'll Be Good]
DRACO
My dearest friend,
What the fuck where you thinking? Defying the Dark Lord? Are you out of your bloody mind?
My father has been out till dawn these past few nights trying to calm the Dark Lord with your foolish mistakes. You're lucky I have no idea where you are or I'll be hexing you until you can't even hold your wand. Just wait until term starts.
I went over to the manor last night.Your father had worn himself sick with worry trying to find you. I would be too if I didn't know you enough to say you'll fix your mistakes sooner or later. You would never leave so many loose ties open. You're just being ridiculous.
I overheard you finally got your mark. Did it really hurt that bad? I don't get mine until Christmas break. Unfair honestly, seeing as I'm older. There's rumor going around that you fought against them too. Rubbish if you ask me. Mother always has been one for gossip. I've known you since you were seven after all. You've been wanting it your entire life! You would have never tossed up such a golden opportunity.
Is it true he entrusted you with a secret mission? No one will tell me. You have to explain on the train. Maybe you'll finally get revenge on Granger for third year, yeah?
-P.P.
P.S. your mother misses you.
Draco stared at the letter. He felt numb staring at the words scribbled onto the letter.
Pansy was insane. This entire time her loyalties were always blurry, but he always had hope that she'd had it all up as an act to please her mother just like he did. Maybe she was pulling his leg or her parents forced her to write. It was the only time he'd heard from her all summer and it would make sense.
Draco's eye's burn. He doesn't even notice when his hands clench into a fist, crinkling the letter along with it. If he couldn't trust her to be putting up an act, then all hope in Blasie was lost. Out of the two she was always the more trustworthy one.
He had to hope she meant no harm in it. Perhaps it was like his mother, thinking she was just doing what she thought best for him. She just hadn't broken out of the same loop of ignorance as he did in fourth year. The thought made him clench his teeth. He wanted anything to wake her up out of her disillusioned daydream before the death and toture got to her. Yet he knew it would be no use. That kind of brainwashing he knew first hand didn't listen to outside reason.
He let out a loud curse before crushing up what was left of the paper he had unconsciously torn to pieces into a ball then threw it into the nearest bin.
"Incendio!"
The paper quickly burst into flames. The radiation burns his eyes but he hardly notices the way he is holding back a scream. He watches the fire as if it can burn up his inner rage, as if his frustrations and anger are the fuel turning it into black confetti.
He doesn't know how long he stands there for. It's the surprising aroma of food breaking through the thick smoke that snaps him out of it. Harry was cooking.
Draco tore his gaze away from the bin and extinguished it with a water charm. In the kitchen Harry was standing in front of a stove, stirring something on the pan that smelled suspiciously like the same pepper and cheese omelette Bramble used to make.
The brunet's back was turned from him when he cussed loudly down at the pan. He was muttering something about burnt food and trouble under his breath.
Draco clears his throat.
The boy whips around quickly with the spatula still in his shaky hands. There was a slight fear in his eyes that only faded slightly at seeing who it was.
"Oh. It's just you."
"Of course it is. Are you doubting the ability of my wards?"
"No! I just..um..."
Draco leans against the counter. Potter had already laid out an array of food next to the stove. roasted tomatoes, steamed potatoes, bacon, and a platter of golden biscuits. It was a bit much for only two people. Draco wondered how he even got at the food. He knew he didn't have that much under preserving charms.
"You made breakfast."
"Yes..."
"Why?"
Harry turned off the heat and took whatever he was making off the burner. "I was nervous. I had to do something to keep me busy."
Draco grabbed a piece of bacon from the basket. It broke over his tongue, perfectly crisp, perfectly salty. The flavour was like a bomb in his mouth, exploding in all the right ways. He was a phenomenal cook, better than his old house elves probably despite decades of practice.
"You seemed perfectly capable yesterday morning."
Harry's cheeks lit up. "I'm sorry. I don't really remember all that much yesterday. Before it happened I mean."
Draco gave him a long stare. There were bags underneath his eyes and his hair was largely dishevelled. He clearly wasn't lying about being nervous. He looked like an honest trainwreck. Though, Draco was definitely not judging. Salazar only knows the last time he tried to put a good amount of effort into his own appearance.
"You lied is what. I specifically told you to tell me if it got worse and you didn't."
Harry's nose scrunched up, which had Draco unconsciously comparing him to a confused stoat. "I was telling the truth.It was just there suddenly and hurt like a bitch."
"So much so that you pass out for almost twenty-four hours?"
Harry shrugged. "It wasn't that long. I woke up at about eleven."
This is when Draco should have said along the lines of 'you want to talk about it?' But for the life of him the words would not leave his mouth. He didn't want to cross any boundaries with him. They had only just agreed to get along, he wasn't going to mess that up now. He knew when and where he wasn't wanted.
Instead he grabbed a plate down from the cabinet, shoving a large portion of each item onto it before giving it to Harry. "You need to eat. If we're going on that train tomorrow you're going to need all the energy you can get. Even from an outsider's perspective it's obvious how much they mother hen you."
Harry took the plate with wide eyes as if he wasn't expecting to actually get to eat his own food.. "Wait- you're coming back? That's great!"
Draco sighed and crossed his arms. He made his own plate then sat at the kitchen counter. "Only for the fact I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Granger graduated with the top marks. I'll be a laughing stock for the rest of my life."
Draco knew he was going to regret it though as soon as he stepped inside the cool, dungeon walls. The Slytherins would eat him alive. He had betrayed a lot of them and they did not take a threat on the home-front kindly. He might as well be walking straight back into the manor. There would be letters flying out to the Dark Lord as soon as people saw him.
He wasn't prejudiced. There were obviously some good Slytherins who weren't part of the dark lords cult who wouldn't care. That would only last for a week tops maybe. One of their many traits just happened to be being manipulative and persuasive.
In all honestly he had no idea why he was doing it. Potter's grin seemed contagious though because he was soon cracking one of his own.
"What about your books?"
"Ordered them by owl last night. They'll be here tonight."
Harry hummed. "So we'll both be going then."
"But what of the ministry?"
"Oh!" Harry hopped up. "I forgot!"
Draco didn't have a chance to get a word out before Harry hopped out of his seat and ran up the stairs like an overactive puppy. When he came down he had thick cream colored letter in his hand. He raised an eyebrow but didn't speak as Harry slapped the envelope on the counter for him to read.
To Harry James Potter
The Ministry of Magic
Draco looked down wearily then back up at Harry's expression. Was he this happy about getting expelled? He knew he was bad at potions but he didn't know it was that bad.
"Open it."
He obliged, carefully not to rip the officallooking paper.
Dear Mr. Potter,
It is with great honor that we grant you immunity to the International Statute of Secrecy and Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery. After many tedious and hard-working hours in council it has been decided the best action to prevent any precarious harm in the years ahead. The return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and your connection to him has caused you to be left in a special circumstance we must not ignore. We have taken in account of the danger placed upon you and we trust you will not abuse the power trusted in you.
As of Abelard Doreen Figg, she has made it clear she does not wish to press charges. She has explained the severity of the situation to us of the night of August 26th which helped greatly in your case in the chamber room.
We wish you good luck on your upcoming school year and your trials ahead.
Sincerely,
Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic.
Draco was thoroughly impressed. The ministry wasn't one to play around with secrecy laws, especially international ones. The only other person he knows of to receive such was Albus Dumbledore himself and that was only after his defeat of Grindelwald. The Ministry had to be scared out of their wits for them to allow something like this.
"I got it this morning. I'm not expelled anymore!"
"I suppose so." He slips the letter and permit back into the envelope. If they both were going to go back that would most likely be the end of whatever was between them now. The thought left him feeling oddly hollow. It had to happen eventually he knew. Only practical. Nothing good lasts forever and the past few days were too bittersweet to begin with. He just didn't expect it to make him feel empty. Bramble did say the star put them together for a reason whatever that meant.
Draco decided to go ahead and rip that bandaid and get it over with. "I can finally forget this past week ever happened then. You'll be off with the weasel and muggle doing whatever trouble you enjoy and I'll get to go back to being the same insufferable git as always."
Harry's face falls briefly and for a brief second he thinks he's going to whip out his wand and hex him, but instead he receives an unexpected shove to the shoulder. "Yeah right. You should hear your voice. You can't even believe that yourself. We made a truce, remember? You shook the hand. You're not allowed to go back."
Draco stares at him, mouth slackened. He had to be joking, right? No one willing wanted him around. They kept him around until his own usefulness dulled out, not because they actually liked him. He was disgusting. Potter had no reason to keep him around anymore. Everything up until this point had been an act to keep Draco playing nice. It was so obvious after seeing it happen so often. Just this once he had chosen to ignore it like the dense fool he was in exchange for a brief second of peace. Even if it was going to stab him in the back in the end.
Again the stupid voice in his head spoke up and made him wonder if Potter really did mean all that he had said the night before in the garden. It made him hopefully and yet he wanted to smash it with a hammer. It would be wrong to get him hope up just yet. It was just like Potter's character to try and keep up the act so Draco didn't get hurt even if it was at his own expense.
"I'm not a fool, Potter. I can detect a lie when I hear one. I'm not a delicate dandelion puff that needs to be plucked gently in danger of being blown away. I can take care of myself."
Harry sets down his fork mid-bite . "What's your problem, Draco? I already said I want to get to know you. Do I need to get you a friendship bracelet or something? Let you sign my yearbook? I never said you couldn't take care of yourself. I don't even understand where you got that from."
"I'm talking about how you don't have to let me down easily. You can stop pretending now."
"Wha-? I'm not! Are...you?"
Draco is taken aback from the question. Was he? He didn't think so. He had let himself take the risk and fall and hoped the other would catch him. Yet, at the same time, he knew how it was all going to turn out in the end, so were any of his emotions real at all?
"No." He decided on simply.
"Then me neither."
Draco squinted at him. "That's not how it works."
"Are you trying to get me to hate you?"
"No, I'm trying to get you to wake up and realize you already do."
They sit knee deep in silence. The faucet drips into the sink, each one reverberating around the room like a cymbal, yet neither blink or move to stop it.
Draco can feel the dread in his chest wanting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect him but there really isn't any danger. It sits there like an angry ball propelling him towards an unstoppable sadness he just doesn't want. He just needs him to say the words that will help them both in the long-run, even if it hurts.
"Well...I don't? Sorry if that's not what you want to hear but it's the truth. I thought I did but you clearly aren't the same person as I thought. I feel like I'm just repeating myself. I'm pretty certain I've already mentioned all this already."
Draco nearly screamed. Why did he make it so much harder than it needed to be? Because now he was doubtful and that just made it ten times more painful.
Draco looked down at his plate realizing it was already empty. It had been awhile since he ate that much. His appetite for anything meal related hasn't been that big since he just sat and watched as the Dark Lord torture and murder a muggle doctor at his dining room table.
Potter said he thought he was a different person. He couldn't begin on how wrong that statement was.
