Chapter Two

Draco struggled to steady himself as they landed, carrying Antigone threw off his balance. Harry pulled away quickly, breaking their contact. Draco watched as he hobbled forward towards a dingy, dilapidated house. He looked around and was surprised to find himself in a worn down, abandoned muggle neighbourhood. Everything was overgrown and it was eerily quiet.

Draco warily followed Harry into the house, unsure of what to expect. Antigone had stopped moving in his arms and looking down at her, found her to be deeply asleep. He smiled down at her. How she could sleep after such excitement was beyond him. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and rubbed her back. He lifted his gaze from her and saw that Harry was staring at him out of the corner of his eyes.

"The spare room's that way." Harry pointed with the lighter in his hand that was now igniting a cigarette. He turned and walked towards the kitchen.

Draco moved towards the room Harry had pointed to, which wasn't as bad as he had been expecting. This had obviously been a child's room at some point, the walls still pale purple, elegant white furniture adorning the room.

He whispered a quick 'tergeo' to clean the dust off the bed before placing Antigone down on it, pulling the soft white comforter over her. Fortunately, she was still asleep. As he leaned over her to kiss her on the forehead once more, a silver dragon pendant fell over the collar of his shirt. He cupped the pendant in his hand and stared at the plush dragon Antigone held close to her.

He tucked the pendant back into his shirt and left the room, wandering back out into the living room.

There, Harry sat in an armchair, his dragon hide shirt tossed over the arm of it. A half-smoked cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth while he inspected and prodded at the open wound in his side. The lighting was poor and Draco could not see the full extent of his injuries. "Lumos." He whispered, and light filled the room. Harry did not appear to notice.

Draco now got a good look of Harry for the first time. There was nothing left in him of the boy Draco went to school with. This man was fierce and terrifying. Without his shirt, Draco could see the dozens of scars adorning his body and the toned muscles that rippled beneath them. His scars were all in various stages of healing, from old, white lines, to red, still swollen and angry marks, to ones like the one he was patching now, still bleeding profusely. Draco watched Harry wince as he pulled off the cloth he had been pressing on the new wound on his side. He tossed the cloth on the coffee table and picked up a glass full of amber liquid, Draco could smell it from where he stood and found the smell a combination of pepper-up potion and firewhiskey. Harry picked up two white pills from the table and swallowed them with the amber liquid. He downed the rest of the glass.

"That good for you, Potter?" Draco joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Harry snorted, wrapping a bandage tightly around his side. "Like I give a shit, especially not after the day I had." He lit another cigarette. He lifted his eyes and through the shaggy black fringe hanging over them they connected with Draco's. There was nothing present in the formerly lively emerald green eyes, only a hazy emptiness. Draco found the gaze too intense and could not keep the eye contact. He turned away and paced the room. He heard Harry get up from the couch, his heavy boots echoing loudly on the floor. A cupboard door opened and he heard more liquid being poured into the glass.

Anger suddenly overcame Draco and he spun to face Harry. "Where the hell have you been?! It's been almost five fucking years and the whole world still thinks you're dead! I thought you had- forget it, I don't know what I thought. Have you been here this whole time?! Here, hiding from the world around you? I had started to believe you really were dead, I never thought that you could have abandoned-"

"Abandoned?!" Harry threw his glass down to the floor and it shattered into a million pieces. "You shut your fucking mouth, Draco Malfoy, you have no idea what you're talking about!" He stalked towards Draco, their faces mere inches apart. Draco was terrified of the expression on Harry's face. "Where have I been? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I've been here, fighting! Fuck knows, I've tried to leave, tried to let the Ministry deal with it. They abandoned us, they were a bunch of fools. If it weren't for me, the world as we know it would have ceased to exist not six months after the battle of Hogwarts. They refused to do anything! They wanted to give up the fight and just let Voldemort win! Fuck if I was going to let that happen. Who do you think has been taking out Death Eaters one by one? Me, that's who. And look what I have to show for it!" Harry gestured to the state of his battered body and the near squalor he lived in. "Where have I been? Where have you been? Leave your sister in the hands of your psychotic father while you live it up in America. Ha!"

"I have no other choice! I'm dead in an instant if anyone sees me here. I betrayed You-Know-Who right in front of him! I saved your fucking life! I gave up everything so you could live!"

Harry chuckled bitterly and sipped straight from the bottle of firewhiskey.

"How do you do it, Potter? How can you still have the energy, the optimism to think this world can be fixed. How do you have the will to do what you do, kill Death Eaters, burst into my father's home in the middle of the night, when You-Know-Who is there, nonetheless, raid the house and almost pull off a victory? How is this possible unless you have the support from somebody inside the ministry that is still uncorrupted?"

"Support?" Harry laughed. "Nobody knows I'm alive! I have no optimism for this world, the damage behind each one of these scars has taken away any hope I may still have had."

"Then why do it, Potter? Why try and protect the people you hold no hope for? Why try and save them?"

Harry's booming laughter shook Draco to the core. The laugh was deranged, manic. "Save them? Why the fuck would I go and do that? I don't want anything to do with them!" Harry turned his back on Draco and wandered towards his room.

"Answer me, Potter!" Harry ignored him and kept walking. "Harry, talk to me!"

The use of Harry's given name made him stop. Without turning around, he responded, fists clenched at his sides. "Who ever said I was trying to protect anyone? Can't I simply be doing this because I have nothing left to live for than to kill every single person who supports the man that murdered my parents?" Harry shut the door to his bedroom without looking back and with a whispered 'Nox' all the lights in the house went out, leaving Draco standing in the middle of the pitch black room. For so many years Draco had thought that Harry had abandoned his quest, leaving the world to die, but now he saw the truth, Harry Potter had abandoned the world so he could complete his quest without interruption or distraction, and he was going to take out as many Death Eaters as he could along the way.

Draco was shaking after his confrontation with the former Gryffindor Golden Boy. He sat heavily down on the couch and held his face in his hands, breathing deeply to try and calm himself. Usually priding himself on not being intimidated very easily, Draco was upset with himself for becoming so unhinged, though he supposed he had a good enough reason why.

Harry had changed, more than he would have ever thought possible. There was a darkness in him now, such darkness that he didn't think the ebony haired man could ever recover from, if he even lived to try. The way he was existing, Draco didn't think he stood a chance.

The only recognizable feature Draco had identified was his overwhelming courage and determination to see this thing through to the very end. That part of Harry reminded Draco of how he had looked during the battle of Hogwarts, the last time he had stood up to Voldemort face to face. Harry's courage that night had been what pushed Draco in the right direction and allowed him to make the decision to rebel.

Draco had been teetering with his decision for ages, ever since he had been ordered to kill Dumbledore. He had, of course, never wanted to do it, but had felt helpless about making any other decision, for fear of putting both himself and his family in danger. He had almost followed through, but just couldn't force himself to do the terrible deed.

The summer after his sixth year and what would have been his seventh year at Hogwarts were the worst days of his existence. He had been forced to stay by his father's side, obeying orders, carrying out mindless tasks for the Dark Lord, giving up information about his lower class and muggle born schoolmates. Every day he lived was agony, but he had no way out.

And then Antigone was born, mere months before the battle. Suddenly a light had appeared in his life, there was something worth living for, something to protect and nurture, something he had to keep from the Dark Lord. Draco spent much of his time then, with his mother and baby sister.

Draco grew more bold after Tig was born, and often expressed to his mother his wishes to escape. He hated his father and wanted to do everything in his power to make sure he never turned out like him. There was nothing his mother could do to help, Narcissa was just as trapped as he was, even less so after she gave her wand to him after Harry had won Draco's own Hawthorne wand from him during their escape of Malfoy Manor.

Draco's rebellion from the Death Eaters had started then, at the time the Golden Trio had been imprisoned in his home. When called forward to try and identify Harry, he had known right away that it was him, though his face had been swollen beyond recognition, there was no mistaking his body language, facial expression or the messy black hair adorning his head. He had taken a great risk, lying to them, and it had worked, at least for a moment, but he had done everything possible at the time to try and help them. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when they had all disapparated away safely.

Draco had always known that Harry had hated him, he had never shown anything to indicate otherwise, and why would he, Draco had never done anything to deserve kindness from him. This fact made Draco's mindset shift drastically on the night of the final battle when Harry had saved his life not once, but twice. It was at that point when Draco knew he had to do something, anything, to ensure Harry's survival. He wanted to live in the world Harry was trying to create. He wanted to be able to live without being looked down upon, or without having to do terrible things.

He had carried out that plan as far as he could. Once saved from the burning Room of Requirement he had made a beeline for the forest, towards where he knew Harry would be headed eventually. He predicted correctly, Harry did show up. He looked on as the battle waged, staying near to his mother who had no protection but him.

He heard his father's voice raise over the crowd that Harry Potter had arrived.

"My Lord!" Lucius called. "Harry Potter is here!"

Draco looked around wildly, and out of the shadows, his flowing robes billowing behind him, appeared Lord Voldemort. Harry strode closer, now in his line of sight as well.

The pair slowly moved closer to each other. Draco saw Harry's hesitation and fear of what to do next, and his eyes kept flicking back to Granger, her screams distracting him from his task.

Draco reached behind him and grabbed his mother's hand, silently praying that this would be the end. Draco's mind was not processing the words that Harry and Voldemort were speaking to each other, he was too anxious.

His mind peaked back into comprehension when Voldemort began screaming and raised his wand. Draco's breath hitched in his throat and he and his mother clung to each other desperately. Time seemed to stand still as Voldemort shouted 'Avada Kedavra' and Draco couldn't understand how the Golden Boy was not fast enough to get out of the way. He watched in horror as the green jet hit Harry square in the chest, and his enemy, whom he had recently gained so much respect for, collapsed to the ground in a heap.

His whole world went numb. Harry Potter couldn't be dead. He was supposed to kill Voldemort, Draco was supposed to be free to live however he pleased. Draco felt bile rising in his throat and he struggled to keep it down, his face paling even more than normal.

When Draco had been called upon to check on Harry, he feared the worst, as did everyone. His mother kissed the palm of his hand and pushed him forwards. He slowly strode over to Harry's limp form, not daring to look towards any of Harry's friends.

Kneeling beside Harry, he could feel immediately that the boy wasn't dead and he could almost not contain his joy. "Don't move, I know you're alive. You've saved many lives, mine twice just tonight, and I'm sure you're bound to save more, but right now there's nothing you can do. Trust me, let me save you." Draco's voice trembled as he whispered in Harry's ear.

He could feel Harry stir, see his mouth moving slightly, soundlessly. This was his chance to do his part, to redeem himself.

"Just stay limp." He whispered one last thing before picking up Harry's arm and slinging it over his shoulder. He picked up the sword in his other hand and hauled Harry to his feet, hanging like a rag doll at his side. "This is my stand, my time to do what's right." Draco whispered to himself, staring confidently into Voldemort's red slitted eyes. He smirked, disapparating with Harry in his arms.

Draco smiled weakly to himself. The memories of that night had not diminished in the five years that had passed. No matter what had become of Harry, Draco still felt he had done the right thing.

He was snapped abruptly out of his memory by a hot sensation against his chest. He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out the dragon pendant, a white aura glowing around it. He felt fear flowing through it and a moment later, heard the soft voice of Antigone calling his name, she had woken alone.

He approached the side of her bed and she flung herself into his arms, sobbing and clutching the stuffed dragon to her. He whispered soothing words in her ear and rubbed her back. Pulling them both under the blankets, she fell back asleep, her little fists gripped tightly around his shirt.

Draco wouldn't find sleep easily that night, his thoughts drifting over the events of the past and present.