Part 17:

For the rest of the day, the Dursleys stayed home, alternating between watching television and torturing Harry. After he made lunch for them, Uncle Vernon wanted Harry to clean up the living room, then the dining room, and then, finally, make dinner. Malfoy meanwhile, had kept quiet, as promised, for which Harry was grateful.

After he finished making supper and cleaning up the dishes, Harry was free to go. Hiding some of the left over food in a napkin, Harry took it upstairs to his room.

Opening the door, Harry saw Malfoy lounging on his bed reading a book. "What are you doing?" he growled, coming in and yanking the book out of Malfoy's hands.

Malfoy looked up, surprised. "I-I was bored. There were books on the shelf," he stammered.

Harry calmed down a little when he saw that Malfoy hadn't been reading Lily's diary. That was something too private and precious for Harry to share with anyone, not to mention Draco Malfoy.

As he looked around the room, trying to see if anything else had been touched, Harry berated himself. "Stupid," he muttered. "You don't think, do you?"

"Something wrong, Potter?" Malfoy asked.
Harry shook his head, all the while looking frantically around the room. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?" he asked himself. "Leaving Malfoy in here the whole day. You left him in your room, stupid. Who knows what he's been doing in here? He could have had Death Eaters in here, looking at all your stuff and you would never have known!" Harry could almost hear what Mad Eye Moody would say if he knew that Harry had let such a strong supporter of Voldemort in the house.

"Get out!" Harry hissed.

Malfoy stepped back. He had stood up while Harry was pacing around, confused. "What?"

"Get out!" Harry was shaking now. "I was an idiot. I should never have let you in. You're still working for Voldemort, aren't you? I don't know what I was thinking! I left you in here all afternoon. Did you get a good look around? Got enough to send back to all your Death Eater pals?" Harry knew that his accusations were unfounded, but he was upset that he had let his trusting nature influence his decision to let Malfoy into the house.

Malfoy sighed. "Is that what you think?" he asked. "Potter, I-I didn't come here to spy on you. I really need your help. Voldemort has my mom prisoner. I've said this already."

"How do I know you weren't lying?" Harry hissed, knowing that raised voices would bring Vernon thundering up the stairs.

"I knew this would happen," Malfoy said, his tone tired. "I knew that you gave in too easily. I knew that your suspicious nature would kick in soon."

Harry's face burned. "Oh you did, did you? You think you know me so well that you can predict my behavior?? Well guess what, Malfoy. I'm NOT predictable!"

Malfoy sighed and sank down onto Harry's bed. "I know you're not. I know that. It's just, Potter—Harry, I had nowhere else to go. All my parents' friends were purebloods. All of them think that Voldemort has the right idea. I can't go back to Hogwarts, I'd be murdered. Please, just…I need your help."

"Won't Voldemort be angry when he finds out that you joined me?" Harry asked. "Won't he kill your mother?"

A pained expression flitted over Malfoy's face. "Don't you think I've thought of that, Potter?" he spat. "I'll just tell the Dark Lord that I'm spying on Dumbledore's 'Golden Boy.'"

"And are you?" Harry asked.

Malfoy shook is head. "No! But…you're the only one who is going to fight Voldemort; you and your friends. If I ever want to see my mother alive again, I need your help."

Harry didn't know what to do. He knew that Dumbledore always gave Malfoy the benefit of the doubt. 'That's what got him killed,' Harry thought bitterly to himself.

Harry stood in front of Malfoy, looking down at the beaten boy. He looked paler than usual, his skin was almost transparent. His blue eyes weren't arrogant anymore, they had a beaten, yet determined look to them and had lost the school-boy foolishness that they once had. Malfoy had grown as well. He was lankier now, and even though he usually carried himself like a prince, now he was beaten and sad. His shoulders hunched over and he seemed defeated, as if he was giving up.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, even if I did agree to let you join me—which I'm not saying I am—what would I do with you? I mean, I would probably be going all over, with R—other people and I might go see members of the—fighters against Voldemort. How can I count on you not to betray them—any of them?"

"I won't!" Malfoy cried, and at Harry's frightened look, he lowered his voice. "I won't betray anyone! I want to help, I really do. Listen, you can do anything you want to me. You can keep me your prisoner, just as long as I can come with you. You can blindfold, gag me, plug my ears. If we go near anyone you don't want me near, you can do anything to keep me from knowing anything. I just…I need to come with you! If I don't, one day you'll find me dead Harry, and it'll be your fault."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "My fault? My fault that you got tied up with the greatest dark wizard of our time?? It's not my fault that you killed Dumbledore, practically the only one who could defeat Voldemort!! Don't blame me for anything that you have decided to do Malfoy, because I won't take responsibility for it."

Malfoy stood back, surprised by Harry's outburst and held up his hands to show he didn't mean any harm. "I know that! I'm sorry that it sounded like I was blaming you. I know I've made mistakes and I will take responsibility for my actions. I-I was a bit of an ass back then, I admit it, but I really want to change."

Harry nodded. "But what are you going to do if—IF—we run into Ron and Hermione? You can't make cracks about Ron's family or call Hermione a 'filthy mudblood.' Neither Ron nor I will stand for it."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "I-I'll work on it," he muttered.
Harry knew that that was the best he was going to get out of Malfoy at the moment. "Fine," he said. "You can stay. But in the attic,"

Malfoy shrugged. "That's fine with me. Just show me the way."

Harry nodded and, sticking his head out of his room, was relieved to find that the Dursley's were still downstairs. Looking up at the ceiling, Harry pointed to a trap door. "There," he whispered.

Malfoy nodded.

Quietly, Harry tiptoed out into the hallway and, jumped up to grab the attic knob. The ladder hinges came down quietly, without a creak, as if it was well oiled even though Harry had never seen anyone go up there. Harry looked around quickly to make sure no one was coming. He needn't have worried. Dudley was still out with his bully friends and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were in the living room with the television turned up as loud as it would go.

"Come on," Harry motioned to Malfoy.

The other boy, silent as a cat walked across the floorboards on tip toe and climbed up the ladder. He stopped at the top. "You coming?" he asked.

Harry nodded and, grabbing hold of the ladder, hoisted himself up.

Together, the two boys pulled up the ladder behind them.
Looking to his left, Harry smiled to see the plastic, white bed-spread. "There. It's one of Dudley's old beds, but it's still good."

Malfoy nodded a little and tried to hide the look of distaste. It obviously was not what he was used to.

Not really caring, Harry turned away from Malfoy and then froze. "Oh my—"