Chapter 7: Conflict of Self

What draws the line between right and wrong? Who decides who are the devils and who are the angels? And how do we decide if we are simply in between? When is the moment we decide who we are? Or who we shall become?

Then.

"Malfoy." I hear a voice say. I heard it faintly at first, but then it grew louder and louder. "Malfoy!"

My eyes snap open, meeting the green ones of Harry Potter. My first instinct is to hide the old Azkaban map under my leg. I still didn't know what I wanted to do with it yet, but I knew I didn't want it falling into Potter's hands.

"Ever heard of knocking, Potter?" I ask groggily. I can feel a headache coming along, and my arms ached from my temper tantrum earlier.

Potter didn't react the way I thought he would've. I was expecting a smart remark, like how we were at Hogwarts. But he just…smiled? Lifting up my empty bottle of Firewhiskey and…

"Every heard of therapy?" He asked back.

"It's…it wasn't about Astoria." I said, wiping my face. My eyes come back into focus and I come face-to-face with the mess I made the night before. "My uhhhh…my father came to visit last night. He wasn't too happy about Nott's sentence."

"So you destroyed his study?" Potter asked, examining the wreckage.

I shrugged. "An alternative to suicide, I guess." Bad joke, I know.

Potter doesn't react much to it. "I just came by to check on you, seeing how you were doing after…your fall."

"Is that what they're calling it? My fall? The lady at the tailor shop said the same thing."

"Kingsley thinks it's more appropriate to say instead of attempted suicide." Harry says. He moves some of the wreckage over and sits by me. I shuffle a bit, hoping that the Azkaban map is tucked safely under my leg still.

"Do they know?" Potter asks. He isn't staring at me, his eyes focused on one of my father's pictures that I slashed my knife through. I stare at it too. When I was a boy, it was my favorite portrait in his study. My father in his prime—a noble and respected man. Or so I thought.

"About…you know?"

My throat goes dry. "I think my mother has an idea—a woman's intuition and all. I'm not really sure about my father. The only thing he cares about is the fact that I haven't murdered Nott."

Potter still doesn't react to my comments. It's as if he understands why I am saying all of this—as if he has said the same things before. Like he's done everything I've done up to this point.

We continue staring at my father's slashed portrait. And I think about the moment I realized my father wasn't that noble and respected man I thought him to be. It was long before Lord Voldemort took over the Manor. The thought of it made me want to take another sip of Firewhiskey, but I remembered the bottle was empty.

"I don't know what I would have done in your situation, Malfoy." Potter says. "I've seen so many people die…friends…family."

"How do you deal with it?" I ask. It was weird…asking Potter for advice, but I know he would have the best yet. He's lost so much—even before he could realize what death was. His parents, his godfathers, Dumbledore…

"At first, I thought being the person they wanted me to be would stop the pain. That if I did everything perfectly, it would make it all better…but it doesn't. People are still being murdered, kidnapped, and cursed. Children are still going missing. Cults are rising every night."

I think of Astoria. "You're doing your best."

Potter snorted. "I'm doing their best. And their best isn't enough. Sometimes Malfoy…the angels aren't angels. And the devils aren't devils. Sometimes we attach ourselves so closely to an ideal…that we misunderstand everything else."

He puts back on his glasses, now being able to clearly see the slashed portrait of my father. Seeing it for what it really was.

"So how do I deal with it? I stopped being their person I thought they wanted me to be, and started being the person everyone else needed me to be. And that requires becoming something else."

"Even if it means going against everything you once believed."

Now.

Seamus and I exchange a look, trying to figure out our next move. Hermione Granger had caught us red handed.

"Well?" She said, putting her hands on her hips. "Is someone going to answer me?"

Seamus tried first. "Are you sure it isn't Potter?"

The witch scoffed. "I think I would know if Harry Potter was sharing notes with the Vigilante. He isn't very good with keeping secrets."

She's right. I say to myself. Harry was never good at hiding things. I should know—at Hogwarts I knew every plan and scheme Potter drew up in his head. Even now, all feelings aside, I still know what Potter is up to.

"I honestly feel like it's a coincidence." Seamus continued to press on, but I knew there was only one way to get out of this one. I swiftly move for my wand, my heart beginning to pound nervously. I didn't understand why I had grown so nervous—I had erased many memories in the past. But it was her…

"You're stalling, Seamus, and frankly it's pathetic." Hermione snapped back. "Do you all have any idea of the extent of the laws you've just broken?"

Seamus scoffed. "We didn't break any laws, Granger!"

"Releasing information to a wanted criminal is a felony, Seamus! Despite what the Vigilante has done, he's a criminal to the Ministry!"

My palms begin to sweat and I have to ask myself, "Is this what I want to do?" Would I even be fast enough to do it? Why did I even have to do it? What harm was there in letting Hermione Granger know that I was the Vigilante?

Well for starters. A voice began in my head, but I already knew what was to follow. I wasn't entirely sure I could trust Hermione with my identity. She could go tell Potter—blasting my name all over the Daily Prophet. She could stun me and I would wake up locked away in Azkaban.

Or worse. She would keep my secret, which would put her in danger. If any of my enemies knew how strongly I cared for Granger, they would go after her.

"Hermione…" My partner argues. "He just saved your life! And now you want to turn him in?!"

She ignores him. "If I don't get an answer in the next five seconds, I'm calling this in to Harry. And you all can explain to him how the Vigilante ended up in Romania.

I quickly swallow my fears and grip my wand once more. I have to do it—no one could know I was the Vigilante. Especially not now. But before I could cast my spell…

"Fine!" Seamus says, and I notice his fists are shaking. Was he about to do it? Was he about to tell Granger who I was? Who he was?

Seamus, what are you doing?

"I told the Vigilante that we would be in Romania." He lied. "But he cornered me the night before we left and pulled the information out of my head. Before I could realize what was going on...he was gone. I..I didn't know what he took until you came in saying he was here."

My mouth wants to drop open, but I don't allow it to. It was a childish reaction, but I couldn't believe he had done it. That Seamus Finnegan convicted the Vigilante. Of course I had done it plenty of times, but Seamus was a die-hard Vigilante fan. He hated when I did it and always vouched for me when the Vigilante was brought up in conversation. I could tell that it was tearing him up inside.

I also noticed the fire dying inside of Granger. "Seamus…" She said softly, seeing how torn up he was. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"He saved my life." Seamus answered immediately. "I figured whatever he took…" He then looked at me, and I try to portray a look of confusion such as Hermione. "…he needed it to save someone else's."

I look back at Hermione, and I wonder if she's thinking about how the Vigilante saved her. There is a long silence between the three of us, and a part of me is anxious about what Granger would do with this information. Seamus could be fired for what he did—and there was nothing the Vigilante—or Draco Malfoy—could do about it.

"So what now?" I ask her. "Are you going to report him?"

She looks at me, and my heart skips a beat. It was the same way she looked at me when we were in the tunnel. As if the decision she was about to make stood against everything she once knew.

"No." She said simply, and she walked past me and Seamus, leaving the room.

I waited for Seamus to say some silly remark, but it doesn't come. His fists are still shaking and he looks as if he wants to throw up (or punch something.) Before I could say anything, he leaves my room as well.

I should have felt relieved. That Hermione Granger didn't find out my identity. That once again Seamus proved to be a loyal member of the team. That we found what could be Harlem Nott's hideout. But I didn't. We were one day into our recon mission, and the madness was already taking over.

8:00 pm.

I find Seamus in his room, downing something a bit stronger than Firewhiskey. I decided to floo to his room, knowing that if I knocked he wouldn't answer. He's looking through the files that Potter gave us. I notice he also has his "after-work activities" notebook out, no doubt trying to compare what happened the night before to the files.

"You didn't have to do that for me, Seamus." I said, breaking the silence. "I was going to erase her memory."

"Why?"

I open my mouth to explain what took me so long to do it—but I'm caught off guard by his question. Certainly, Seamus knew why I wanted to erase her memory.

"Pardon?"

My partner whipped around in his chair, looking at me with a face of seriousness. And from that look, I concluded that Seamus knew why I wanted to erase her memory—but he wanted to know why I wanted to erase Hermione Granger's memory of the Vigilante.

"Draco, she's the first woman you've fancied since Astoria. And I know it's hard trying to balance what you feel for her with what we do every night. But you saved her life last night, mate."

I furrow my brow. "Are you saying I should've told her I was the Vigilante?"

"Oh no." Seamus sighed. "It's just—ever since we started doing this, everyone has always labeled you as one thing. A criminal. No matter how many people you save. No matter how many Death Eaters and petty thugs you stop. They always call you the same thing."

"But that doesn't matter to me, Seamus."

"It won't matter—until you hear it from her."

He's made a good point. I've been called a criminal and a thug many times. At home by my parents. At work from my coworkers. From random people in the street. But it never bothered me, because I knew who I was. But hearing the word "criminal" come out of Granger's mouth, even after I had saved her…it stung me. Maybe even cut me deeper than I was feeling right now.

"That's why I always defend you." Seamus continued. "So people can wake up and realize that you aren't a criminal. That we're doing the right thing. That everything isn't just right and wrong…devils and angels. "

At this moment, I'm speechless. I'd always wanted to make a greater impact on the community as the Vigilante, and for a while I stopped working towards it. I did what I needed to do, despite the labels in the paper or what others thought about me. But I never stopped to realize how those criticisms affected those who supported me. I never thought about how their faith in me could influence someone else to believe in what we were doing.

Not until Seamus convinced Hermione Granger to go against everything she ever stood for.

There was a knock on the door, and I take it upon myself to open it. I almost freeze on the spot when I see who's there. My heart skips another beat as if this is my first time seeing her, but I quickly blink myself out of my trance.

"Granger." I say. "Did you need something?"

She blushes red, biting her lip. "I—I wanted to apologize to Seamus. About earlier."

I look behind me, looking to Seamus to decide whether to let the witch in or not. My partner nods 'yes' and I open the door wider, allowing Hermione to walk inside. She walks straight in, coming face to face with Seamus.

"I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier, Seamus." She says quickly, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice. "I know how passionate you are about the Vigilante, and—"

"Save it, Granger." Seamus interrupted, his usually smile on his face. "All is forgiven."

She smiles back. "I also wanted to invite you two to drinks, as a peace offering." She blushed again. "If you wanted to go."

Seamus and I share a look. We were never the ones to turn down drinks.

"You two go on." Seamus says surprisingly. "I'm going to dig into the files a bit more. See if I can find a connection with your kidnapping and Harlem Nott."

I frown. "You sure?"

He holds up his bottle. "I got the whole bar right here, mate. I'll be fine."

I catch on to what he's doing. Leaving Hermione and I alone. And though I appreciate the noble gesture, a part of me wants to retreat to my room. My heart beats faster as Granger and I leave Seamus's room and head downstairs to the bar. With each step, I'm praying to Merlin that I don't screw this up.

Author's Note: Follow, Fav, and Review!

~TheeStoryTeller