On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads
Enigmaris
Chapter 36: Draco Malfoy's Terrible, Rotten, No Good Summer
Summary:
Draco spends the opening feast glaring at Potter.
If it even was Potter and not some handsome look-a-like.
Notes:
All the ace people in the comments last week who vibed with Oblivious Harry. I want you to know that I also vibed hard with that, I'm here for the solidarity.
Chapter Text
Draco's first thought upon seeing Harry Potter was simple.
He looks like he had a good summer.
It was an incredibly unwelcome and unusual thought to have.
He had purposefully not tried to find Potter on the train ride over, he'd had more important things to do. He had expected to see the same skinny, glasses wearing, slouching Potter he always did entering the Great Hall. Potter always looked like the summers had been hell for him. He came back skinnier, wearing robes that didn't fit, and with bags under his eyes. Draco had always made a note of his ill health with glee.
Of course, Potter was suffering. That's what happened when you pick the wrong sort.
But when Potter had entered with the first years, he hadn't looked like Potter at all.
He looks like he had a good summer.
He'd been taller, having grown over a foot in height since the last time Draco had seen him. His hair had been cut by someone who knew what they were doing. In previous years Draco had suspected that Potter cut his own hair a few days before returning to Hogwarts which is why it looked so shaggy and poorly cared for. But Potter's hair, while still messy, was the sort of stylish messy that made it clear that it was meant to look that way.
His glasses were gone too. The ugly frames that had been too large for him as a first year and too small for him as a fifth year were gone. Instead his face was free of any adornment, aside from the scar on his forehead. His green eyes seemed to glow as he looked around the room and spoke with the first years. The color of them contrasted well with the healthy tan of his face.
Potter had somehow managed to tan. A feat that had never happened in all the years Draco had known him. The boy had always been a sickly pale, unlike Draco's own regal coloring. But now Potter's skin was a nice, even golden tan, that only came from work. Either Potter had purposefully spent time in the sun getting that color or it was a glamor of some sort.
What was the worst out of all of it though was the physique.
Potter's robes were tailored to fit him and made of a higher quality than what you'd get at Malkins for the standard price. This tailoring revealed a body that did not belong with Potter. There were muscular arms and a well defined chest that were obvious even from a distance. Malfoy knew Potter wasn't smart enough to pull off a glamor this realistic which left only one possible conclusion.
He looks like he had a good summer.
Draco had had that thought and had gripped his robes beneath the table so hard he'd nearly torn them.
Potter looked like he'd had a fantastic summer and Draco hated it. Despised it with every bit of his soul. How dare he have the gall to stand there looking like that? In what world was that fair? That Potter had had a good summer and Draco had…
Well.
There was a new sort of weight on his forearm that made it clear exactly what sort of summer he'd had.
A weight that writhed around, a mass that had been placed there where it could seep into his skin and attach itself to his very soul.
It had hurt so much, and he had been so…
No.
This was what his father had trained him for. Even if his father was in Azkaban, even if his mother was locked up as a prisoner in their Manor, Draco was still exactly what he was made to be. He was proud of the mark. He'd wanted it. Had always wanted it. From the moment he'd seen his father's mark when he'd been a young child he'd known what he was destined for. Draco wouldn't back down now.
Even if his arm itched with the weight of it sometimes.
Draco had spent the rest of the feast glaring at Potter. Glaring at him for laughing, for high fiving first years, for eating more food than Weasley. He hadn't been at his best when the Gryffindor had waltzed over to their side of the great hall like he owned the place. He'd placed the parchment rolls of maps of the school onto the table in front of Draco. A trap or a peace offering? He spoke, going so far as to offer a magical vow to ensure they knew the maps were exactly what he meant them to be.
"You know? That first train ride over when I told you that I could tell the good sort for myself?" Harry said. "I lied then. But I've finally figured it out. And Dumbledore? He's not on my side, not anymore. Take the maps or don't. But they'll help you protect the kids in your house who need it. Aren't Slytherins all about self-preservation?"
And Potter smiled at him. His eyes literally sparkling with delight.
"See you on the Pitch, Malfoy."
And just what the hell did that mean?
Potter was like an entirely different person. He sat still in class, excelled at every spell he tried, and he helped first years regardless of house. The only time the Potter Draco knew made an appearance was in Defense when the Golden Boy would glare and scoff at the God of Magic like he used to do with Snape. Other than that it was like a more handsome look-a-like had taken Potter's place and it seemed like nobody but Draco had even noticed.
When Draco watched Potter willingly take hexes from first year Slytherins he knew things were bad.
No one had that good of a summer.
No one.
So, when Potter walked up to him and his friends, aside from Crabbe and Goyle who were in the greenhouses, while they sat on the lake enjoying the rare warm fall afternoon, Draco had no idea what to expect. Potter had forgone his robe, wearing instead only his button up shirt and dress pants. The sleeves on the shirt were rolled up to his elbow and Malfoy could see the leather strap he had on his forearm to keep his wand attached to his arm.
How obscene.
"Oi! Malfoy!"
"What could you possibly want Potter?" Malfoy demanded, glaring up at the too tall Gryffindor.
"Testy today are we? Is it Flitwick's essay? Heard that one was a doozy of an assignment. I haven't started it, but Hermione seems upset about it so it's probably brutal."
Flitwick's essay was brutal. Just because Potter had gotten house points and extra credit for his map creation from Flitwick didn't mean the professor would forgive Potter his poor writing skills. That wasn't the point either.
"I'm testy because a half blood fool is bothering me. Go away."
"Ha. Half-blood." Potter said grinning down at Malfoy. Instead of going away, the idiot plopped himself down in front of the Slytherins, leaving himself totally vulnerable to any attack the group of them wanted to make.
"What are you on about?"
"It's just, I totally am a half-blood. Never really thought about it before." Potter said. "Maybe I should come up with some sort of nickname for it."
Was Potter daft? Malfoy had just insulted his parentage and the bloody fool was sitting there grinning to himself. Potter snapped his fingers.
"I know! Professor Snape used to call me Prince Potter all the time. I could be the half-blood prince! That's perfect. I'm going to start signing all of my letters with that."
"You are aware that your blood status is nothing to be proud of correct?" Blaise Zabini broke in, sounding far too amused.
"You expect me to be ashamed of my mum? The woman who managed to deflect a killing curse from You-Know-Who for me? You're crazy."
"Yes well at least our mothers are alive." Draco snapped. Potter finally looked at him a bit of his old fiery spark back into his eyes. Good.
Draco wanted to fight him. A good duel with Potter was exactly what he needed. He had a mission after all. One given to him by the Dark Lord himself. Draco would not fail, not like his father had.
"Could you chill it with the orphan jokes mate? Get some new material. Making fun of me for being an orphan was fine when we were 11 but honestly, I expected more from you."
"Why should I update my material when you're the exact same orphan you've always been?"
"Well not the exact same." Potter said lifting up an eyebrow. "I got rid of the glasses you know."
Oh, was that all? Draco glared at him fiercely unwilling to even play his game. Pansy sighed and sat up.
"Potter, either tell us why you're here or just go."
"I'm starting a tutoring group." Potter said as if that was a normal thing to say. "For the younger years so that they can come to older students and ask for help with their homework or any spells they're struggling with. I know the prefects are supposed to do that stuff but if Hermione's workload is any indication they don't have the time."
No one had a workload like Granger's, Malfoy snorted at the very idea.
"And you are telling us this why?" Blaise asked.
"I want your help running it." Potter said. "I know you and Malfoy are the best potion students in our year. It makes sense to see if you're game, since you two are the only two who could possibly help the younger years with anything. Not like I could do it."
"Has the Great Potter finally discovered how incompetent he truly is?"
"My potions skills aren't much of a secret, Malfoy." Potter said. "Besides I'm good at other things."
"Like what?"
"Uhm. Talking to snakes? I'm pretty good at that. Oh! And quidditch."
"Behold, our Chosen One." Pansy said snickering.
"The answer, if you couldn't tell, is-"
"Before you say no Zabini consider this." Potter interrupted. "Your first and second years are going to go to this study group. They'd be stupid not to, I already have all the first years begging me for tutoring and you know it. If you join the group of students I'm pulling together as tutors, then you can make sure that the Slytherins are treated fairly by the others. This is an opportunity to be right in the middle of this instead of spying in on it from the outside. Are you really going to say 'no' to that?"
Since when was Potter smart?
"I don't find the idea of being attacked by your followers very appealing." Blaise scoffed. "We know better than to go where we won't be welcome."
"No one is going to bother you." Potter said very seriously. "If they do then they'll deal with me. This is going to be a house rivalry free space."
"Why should we believe you?" Pansy demanded.
Potter rolled his eyes and then spoke.
"How about I tell you a secret? Something to…simplify this?"
"We aren't your mind healer Potter." Malfoy snapped.
"I was supposed to be in Slytherin." Potter said.
What?
What the…
"You're lying." Blaise said.
"Am not." Potter said. "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, argued with me about it. I had to beg it to put me in another house. Swear on my mum's grave it's true."
"Seriously?" Pansy asked.
"Mhmm. Only reason I'm not a snake like the rest of you is because I only knew two things about Slytherins by that point. Firstly, that the first wizard I'd ever met had told me that Slytherins were bad news and secondly that the man who murdered my parents was a Slytherin. It was basic self-preservation to go someplace else. So, I got sorted into Gryffindor."
"Why are you telling us this?"
"Because this summer when I realized how much Dumbledore was trying to manipulate me I did some thinking." Potter said. "And I figured that I'm not so different from you guys. Blood status aside I guess. I don't want to play Dumbledore's games anymore. He wanted me to hate you all, to think the worst of you for no other reason than where the hat put you and who your parents are. I'm not doing it anymore. You're kids just like me."
"How sweet." Draco drawled. "Any other little pithy poems you'd like to spout to us?"
"I'm sorry about your dad." Potter said making Draco stiffen completely. Potter continued. "I'm an orphan, like you keep pointing out, I know what it's like to have your parent taken away. It's not fun. I mean don't get me wrong, your dad tried to murder me so I'm not sad he's in jail, but I know you cared about him and it's not fair you have to suffer for his crimes."
"You don't know what you're talking about Potter."
Potter just shrugged, not denying his point. Draco gritted his teeth. He wanted Potter to react, to fight him, just like they used to. What? Was Draco not good enough for Potter anymore? Well too bad. It was Draco's job to figure out who Potter was allied with now and who had been training him in magic. He was meant to discover what Potter's true powers were now and where they had come from. Draco was going to figure it out. He would.
"Are you really splitting with Dumbledore then?" Blaise asked. "That wasn't just some stunt?"
"Yeah. Yeah I am." Potter said seriously.
"Fine. I'll join your stupid tutoring club." Blaise said.
"Blaise!" Draco said.
"What? He makes a good point." Blaise said.
"You have to promise to be fair to every student that comes to you for help." Potter said. "All the tutors are going to sign something to make sure that no one is treated poorly. You'll be allowed to read through it and check it for any untoward spells before you sign, and we'll all sign the same thing. Fair's fair."
"How Hufflepuff of you." Pansy sneered.
"They make some good points." Potter said. "All the houses do, I could learn a lot from your house too."
"What could you possibly have to learn from us?" Malfoy demanded finally gaining his voice back.
"Malfoy. I have a prophecy on my head that says I'm either going to kill You-Know-Who or die trying. On top of that, Dumbledore is also trying to put me into life threatening danger for his twisted chess game." Potter said. "If there was ever a time to learn cunningness, resourcefulness, and self-preservation it'd be now."
That made Pansy and Blaise both snort while Draco just glared at Potter. Potter looked right back at him and sighed for a moment.
"Dumbledore wants us all to believe we have to be enemies. That we have to hate each other. But that's just the sort of thinking that let the war get as bad as it is now. And now we have a bunch of younger students who are going to die if they don't learn enough magic to defend themselves. I don't want any of those kids to get hurt, not like I was, not like we were. I'm choosing to go against the plans Dumbledore has for me. We all have that choice."
Potter stood up and shook his legs to get the grass off of his shoes.
"Thanks, Zabini for agreeing to help. I'll send you a message with all the details. If anything doesn't seem fair to you let me know and we'll revise it. If there are any students in your house who you think would be willing to help send their names to me and I'll add them to the pool."
"You'd take my recommendation?" Zabini asked.
"You know your house better than I do and if they're willing to sign the same thing I'll be signing then I don't see the problem." Potter answered. "Just be warned though. Hermione'll be enchanting the paper so don't think you can trick her, should ask Marietta how that worked out for her."
All three of them shivered at the reminder of the boils that had been on her face for weeks after the snitching incident. Granger was ruthless when she wanted to be. Potter grinned and turned to leave, but then he paused.
"Remember, we can all choose who we want to follow. Even if that just ends up being ourselves."
Obviously, Potter was recruiting. It was so obvious it was painful. And yet Draco could still see the thoughtful looks in his friends' eyes. It was the same look that had been spreading through the Slytherin Common room ever since the opening feast. It was the look that increased each time Potter was spotted helping a Slytherin first year or casting a difficult spell without breaking a sweat.
Potter's power was just as convincing, if not more so, than his kindness for most of them.
And what power it was. There didn't seem to be a spell Potter couldn't do. No transfiguration was too complex, no charm too taxing. Crabbe even claimed that he saw Potter doing wandless magic in an empty courtyard and Goyle had backed him up much to the astonishment of the house. If Potter was capable of that then…
It was the same look that kept most Slytherins from writing home. It was the look that caused whispers late into the night when the darkness of the common room could hide an identity. It was the look that was rocking the structure of the school, institutions and traditions that had been in place for generations were being knocked down because of one stubborn Gryffindor. Draco wanted to scream, wanted to spit at the very idea. How dare his house consider this?
Did they not know their duty?
Potter didn't. He didn't know anything. What did he know of loyalty? Of family?
I'm sorry about your dad.
Malfoy clenched his jaw. He stood up roughly.
"Draco."
"Don't Blaise." He snapped. "You made your choice. I don't need you anyway."
"It's not like that!"
Draco wasn't willing to listen though. He stomped viciously away, ignoring Pansy's calls and Blaise's denials. They were traitors through and through. He'd thought they were his friends, that they could be trusted. Of course, he'd been foolish to think that. He didn't need them. He only needed himself. He could complete his mission, get the information his Lord wanted, and he'd protect his mother, he'd get his father free. He'd make everything perfect.
He had no other choice.
Draco stalked his way all the way to the other side of the castle. He found himself pacing angrily back and forth along the cliff's edge. There was no one there to bother him, no windows for people to spy from. He was alone and he was furious.
Frightened.
He wasn't a fool. Draco knew what would happen if he failed. If he betrayed the Dark Lord. His mother would pay the price. His father too. His entire family rested on his shoulders, they depended on him. He would not fail. He wouldn't.
What did Potter even know of choice anyway?
Potter had had his whole life handed to him. People fell at his feet to give him what he wanted. Only someone like Potter would be arrogant to break an alliance with Dumbledore while fighting a war against Draco's Lord. Potter was far too foolish to follow into battle. He would get them killed, just like he'd gotten his godfather killed.
Draco angrily kicked at a rock, sending it flying off the cliff and into the sea below. He scowled as he watched its rapid descent. Only two weeks into the school year and he was already feeling the pressure, the fear. He had to send information soon or all would be lost. His Lord had made that clear. For every week he failed to produce results his mother would be…
No. Potter was wrong.
There was no choice for him. Not for any of them.
The sun began to set before Draco had calmed down. He had remained outside for hours, skipping dinner and his afternoon class. Draco would have stayed out for longer, he had in fact planned on it, but he heard a crunch. He turned to see Potter standing a fair distance away, his wand lit up with a simple lumos.
"If you take one step closer, I'll consider it a sign of aggression."
"You asking for a rematch duel?" Potter asked. "I'm game."
"What?"
"Been a while since we dueled. You really got me that first time with the snake conjuring."
"Just go away Potter." Draco sighed.
Potter didn't.
Instead the idiot took one more step.
Draco flipped around and fired a high-powered blasting hex right at him. Potter immediately dropped his lumos spell and brought up a shield. The shield held against Draco's attack but sent Potter skidding back along the wet grass. Draco growled and fired another spell at him, which Potter dodged. He fired again and again and again. Each time Potter either deflected, blocked or dodged. Even as Draco's spells got darker, Potter didn't react beyond trying to move closer to Draco.
Draco took a step back and kept fighting.
"Fight back!" Draco shouted. "FIGHT BACK YOU COWARD!"
For the entire summer Draco had been fighting. Fighting to protect his mother. Fighting for his place. Fighting for his family's honor. Fighting for his life. He'd been fighting a battle he knew he could not win. Fighting a never-ending war that resulted in torture and nightmares each day. Fighting a fight that ended with him being marked with something that trapped him in a destiny he had no choice in.
And now. Now he could finally win. Now he could take down Potter. He could, he knew he could. But that damn idiot wasn't fighting back.
Just taking steps closer and closer to him.
Draco stepped back trying to maintain their distance.
His chest was heaving as he fired spell after spell, hex after hex. The grass around them was burnt and singed from the magic that failed to hit it's target. He could smell the acrid scent of ozone as he tried to get Potter to react, to do something.
He fired a cruciatus.
Potter dodged and stepped forward.
He took a step back.
There was no ground beneath him.
His and Potter's eyes widened at the same time.
He began to fall.
"MALFOY!"
Draco squeezed his eyes shut as gravity began to pull him down to the rocky cliffs below. Then a powerful force gripped his robe and pulled with inhuman strength. Potter dragged him by his robes all the way into his arms and then further back away from the cliff's edge, holding him in a grip that was far too strong.
"Holy shit." He said. "That was close. What were you thinking, Malfoy? You could have died."
"What does it matter?"
"Huh?"
"It doesn't matter Potter! Nothing does! You're a fool if you think so. I don't have a choice."
"Of course, you do." Potter said, pulling back. Draco roughly pulled himself away from Potter.
"No, I don't! He has my mother you idiot!"
Potter froze, he froze so completely it reminded Draco for a moment of the victims of the basilisk.
"Oh."
"I have my destiny Potter and so do you." Draco said. "We've never had a choice."
"No, you still have a choice Draco."
"If you think I'm going to abandon my family then you're…"
"No. No." Potter interrupted shaking his head almost violently. "I'm saying we should save them, your mum I mean. Let's save your mum."
"What are you talking about?"
"You say you don't have a choice because You-Know-Who has your mum. So, let's free your mum." Potter said as if it were simple. "Then you'd have a choice."
The mark on his arm throbbed a warning as if it knew the direction of his thoughts.
"You're insane."
"No, I'm not. Your mum is in Malfoy Manor, right? Let's go get our brooms and fly over there. You can get us under the wards, and I can keep us from being noticed." Potter said, his eyes were lighting up now with an unholy chaotic light. It was unlike anything Draco had ever seen.
"And…and how would you do that?"
"I've learnt a lot of magic over the summer." Potter promised. "Had a great teacher. I can disguise us so no one will suspect our true identities. We go in, find your mum, and get her out of there."
"And then what? Come back here?"
"I've made a lot of allies over the summer. There's a safehouse we can take her too. No strings attached. You don't have to join me or any side if you don't want too. Your mum will still be safe as long as she doesn't do something to endanger herself."
"This…this is crazy."
And why wasn't Draco running? Why wasn't he taking this opportunity to fight again? Why was he listening?
"Come on Malfoy." Potter said, holding out a hand, eerily echoing the hand Draco had offered him years ago. "Make a choice."