Lucius had a sunken appearance, as though some of his vitality had withered inside of him, but he held himself with an air of superiority, and Harry noticed that Draco still cowered under his father's gaze.
True to the boy's word, Azkaban had released the eldest Malfoy that very morning, and before an hour had passed, Lucius had predictably appeared at Hogwarts, requesting a visit with his son.
Harry stood motionless behind a great pillar, draped in his invisibility cloak and listening carefully to the conversation between the two of them. With an incessant wind dancing across the grounds, he could only perceive snippets of what was being said, but he didn't dare move any closer for fear of being detected. He wouldn't put it past Lucius to have activated a secrecy charm around his son in case of an "intrusion."
"…disappointed in you, Draco…" Harry suddenly picked up, and he strained his ears fiercely, taking just one more step forward. "…would have thought…didn't listen…." Lucius was gesturing angrily, and Draco had lowered his eyes to the ground, looking defeated. "You know what might have happened….could have lost it all, you foolish boy." Lucius spat the last part of the sentence, and Harry clenched his teeth in frustration, wishing he could somehow shield Draco from the verbal blows.
"No wonder he acts the way he does…" Harry thought, watching Lucius loom dauntingly over his son as he shook a finger ominously in the boy's face. "What kind of father can't even spare a friendly greeting after being away from his family for almost a year?"
There was a sharp noise, and Harry realized with horror that Lucius had slapped Draco soundly across the face. Harry had to grip the Pillar brutally to stop himself from bursting forward to intervene, but Draco had hardly moved at all. His eyes were still downcast and his arms hung limply by his side.
"Yes, Father…" Harry heard him mutter obediently, and Lucius smiled coldly in the sunlight.
"Good," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he reached down to stiffly ruffle Draco's hair. "Make me proud."
Draco nodded wearily, and the two of them turned to walk toward the Great Hall, Lucius throwing his arm around Draco's shoulder, possibly to give the illusion that they had just been tearfully reunited.
Harry slumped furiously against the pillar, yanking off his invisibility cloak and kicking the solid marble with all his strength. The only thing that accomplished was a searing pain that coursed through his foot, but it certainly felt better than doing nothing.
"Is everything going to just…go back to the way it was?" he thought stormily, glaring at a young first year who happened to walk by him and then immediately feeling guilty about it. "Why did they let him out? How could they have?" He picked up a pebble and chucked it savagely towards the wall, listening to the sharp crack as it made contact.
Not only had Voldemort gained back one of his most vehement supporters, but, from what Harry had heard and from what he knew about the Malfoys, he was about to gain Lucius's son as well, and if Voldemort gained Draco…then Harry would lose him.
A foreboding cloud drifted fatefully across the sun, and Harry clutched the soft cloak in his hands, staring at the dark shadow that fell menacingly across the grounds.
-
"I've been looking for you everywhere," came a voice from behind him, and Harry turned slowly to see Draco standing a few feet away. It had been approximately an hour since Harry had seen the two head toward the Great Hall, and he had been unable to motivate himself to move to a new location.
Harry noticed that Draco had lost the broken appearance that he had exhibited with his father, but there was still a hint of despondence in his eyes, and Harry realized that the boy's scars with Lucius must run deep.
"I've been…catching some fresh air…before exams, you know," Harry said steadily, knowing full-well that Draco was perfectly aware of the fact that he was lying.
"No, you weren't," Malfoy said blatantly, taking a step forward.
"Better not do that, Draco. Your father might be watching," Harry said, finding it almost impossible to keep the bitterness from his voice.
Draco was silent for a few seconds before stepping back, and Harry looked up to see that his face was tinted with obvious pain at Harry's comment. "Look…I didn't mean…I'm sorry," Harry said, getting to his feet and approaching Malfoy. "I'm…sorry. I know this isn't easy for you. I know that…I'm just…I just don't know what to do, that's all…" His voice trailed off as he looked up at Draco.
Malfoy's features softened, and he glanced around before hesitantly putting his hand on the side of Harry's face in an attempt to reassure them both.
"There are…things to say," he whispered gently, although with a profound sadness pulling at the corners of his eyes. "Come to the Trophy Room. It's too risky out here. You were…you were right…about my father…"
Harry placed his own hand over Malfoy's and nodded, wishing that they could stay in this position for the rest of time, reaching out to each other, comforting each other, but the world didn't want them to comfort each other, and the world was always watching.
"Right," Harry mumbled quickly, turning away. "Let's go. There's not much time. Your father will start to wonder."
-
The hallways were deserted as the two boys darted up the stairs toward the trophy room, praying that they wouldn't run into Lucius, or anyone, actually, who would consider it strange to see the two of them together. "Which is basically every student, teacher, or guest in this place," Harry thought worriedly, speeding up the pace.
However, everyone seemed to be outside enjoying one of the last few unoccupied days before exams, and Harry and Malfoy entered the Trophy Room without having seen (or been seen by) a single other person.
They both looked around quietly, and with an almost crushingly-intense sensation, the memories that the room held came rushing back into Harry's mind. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes drifted toward the equipment closet. "This is where it all really began…" he thought.
The trophies glistened brightly in the sunlight, and Harry's gaze found the one that had been his father's…a star Quidditch player…years before Harry had been born. Oddly, a feeling of warmth returning to his ice-cold chest and he felt strangely consoled as he and Malfoy sat almost reluctantly on the same window sill that had been coated with a layer of moonlight not so very ago.
He raised his eyes, looking expectantly at Draco, who surprisingly began to speak immediately.
"I'm sure you know that I had a conversation with my father today," he said briskly, smoothing his hair back apprehensively and letting his eyes wander restlessly around the room. "He wants me to do something, and I'm going to, right as soon as school gets out…sooner if he…if we…can find a way."
Shocked as he was by this pronouncement, Harry didn't falter, instead keeping his expression sturdy as he tried to draw Draco back into his gaze.
"What exactly is it that your father wants you to do?" he asked calmly, although his mind was reeling with the very probable worst case scenario. Malfoy looked determinedly out the window.
"Before he went to…before he went away, he told me that I should seek out the…Dark Lord…during his absence…that I should join him…to take his place. You see, my father didn't know when or if he would be back..." Malfoy stopped and cleared his throat roughly before continuing, giving Harry the impression that he didn't want to speak the words almost as much as Harry didn't want to hear them. "To make a long story short," Draco continued, I didn't, as you most likely know, do that, and my father isn't pleased…nor is the Dark Lord apparently, and so…my…my father is taking me to him, so that I can give him my loyalties. I'm…well, I'm leaving, to join him, and that's really all there is to say." His speech ended abruptly and left a deep, hollow chill in its place that began to widen perceptibly between the boys.
"I can't even believe that this is happening" Harry hissed angrily, losing all composure as he stared at Draco like he had never quite seen him properly before. "How can you say that so casually? Voldemort is a murderer! Your father is a murderer! Is that what you want to be? You're going to give everything up for that?"
For a moment, Malfoy looked at Harry intently, and then he shook his head in weary disbelief.
"You just don't get it, do you?" he whispered, although his voice was full of quiet severity. "You really don't get it. You're not the only one who has a destiny, Harry!" It was the first time in a very long time that Draco had addressed him by his first name. "I have a destiny too," Draco continued, "and it's not something that I can just walk away from!" Malfoy's chest had begun to shake slightly as he breathed. "There are expectations for me too! I tried to tell you in the hospital wing. I tried…" Harry reached out to grab his hand, but Draco pulled away, his face turning even paler in the afternoon light.
"You don't have to do something just because your father tells you to," Harry murmured softly, feeling a sharp pang of despair somewhere in his chest. "You have a choice, Draco. You always have a choice." Malfoy laughed dryly, and the piercing sound seemed jarring as it echoed across the room.
"What choice is that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I mean, tell me, what is this choice that you seem to think I have? Death? A life of hiding? I don't call those choices. The world has a plan for me, don't you see? It's not just my father! The whole bloody world has my life mapped out for me, and who am I to prove them all wrong? Who am I? I'm no one, nothing except what everyone always says…" Draco had stopped looking scared and was beginning to look determined, as though if he could only keep talking, keep reiterating the idea, then he would be able to convince himself that this was the only way.
Harry felt his eyes fill embarrassingly with tears, and he willed them fiercely away, looking down at his hands.
"What about what I say you are?" he asked hesitantly. "Does that mean anything at all?" Malfoy looked uncomfortable and smoothed his hair yet again, as though remaining physically smooth and composed would keep him mentally smooth and composed.
"You're only one person," he finally said bluntly, his tone dark. "All of them…they've known me for my whole life. The Deatheaters, the Dark Lord…they're the ones who will be there for me."
Harry sighed deeply, feeling resentment start to bubble again to the surface.
"Don't call him the Dark Lord. He's not a Lord. He's a killer."
"Then don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to, Potter."
"Why don't you take responsibility for your own life for a change, Malfoy?"
"Who are you to talk, Potter? As if you have control over yours!" The two boys had barely raised their voices above whispers, but the gap between them had grown immense in depth, and the tension was so thick that Harry could barely stand it. He hated the way that this was happening. He hated it. But, he realized on some level that Malfoy was right. He couldn't fix this any more than Harry could. Voldemort would never stop until he had what he wanted. Harry would have liked to believe that he could have protected Draco had he chosen differently, but in reality, there was a chance too large to ignore that this would have proven impossible, and even if it didn't, Malfoy couldn't survive locked up the way Sirius had been. He would go insane. Harry could never fix that…not with his wand, or with his broomstick, or with his words, or even with his love. That was why he hated it.
Harry tentatively lifted his head to watch Draco and was touched to see how resolutely he was trying to maintain a brave expression. It was a struggle, and Harry detected the slight hint of fear that was breaking through the boy's defenses. Malfoy needed his shadows. He needed his shield, and, without it, Harry realized with a jolt, he was dead. The world didn't play fair. Sometimes, the only way to keep the truth safe was to hide it behind a mask.
With an unimaginably heavy rush of sadness, he reached forward and placed his hand on Draco's cheek, just as Draco had done for him. Images flashed through his mind. The bush, the closet, the hospital wing…whispered words, lips, eyes, smiles…trust, love, truth…
"Then, I guess this is fitting," he whispered, stroking Malfoy's skin. "I guess it's fitting that the place where it all really began is the place where everything ends." Malfoy looked up, his eyes relieved and desperate at the same time, and Harry continued. "You're right Draco," he murmured, his chest shaking as he held back the tears that he knew would come anyway, "You and I can't ever work."
****NOT the end! Don't worry, folks! Comments/criticism/ideas/thoughts are greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think. Also, I'd like to go through and add several new graphic scenes to the upcoming chapters. Smut-wise, how much are you comfortable with? Thanks for reading! Again, ten chapters are already written and will be posted fairly quickly as I add/edit scenes. I expect all of it to be up in the next three days and chapter eleven to be written within a week (I hope).