Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Darkness Within The Light	By : crimson96 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8759 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author's Note:

This is the chapter that I kno wmany people have been waiting to read. Harry and Draco's first encounter in person, so I hope that everyone enjoys reading this chapter. As always please do feel free to leave me a comment or an e-mail about the chapter or the story...all feedback is most useful. My biggest thanks goes to my beta reader, Eris R. LeBeau. This is the chapter that I know many people have been waiting to read. Harry and Draco's first encounter in person, so I hope that everyone enjoys reading this chapter. As always please do feel free to leave me a comment or an e-mail about the chapter or the story...all feedback is most useful. My biggest thanks goes to my beta reader, Eris R. LeBeau.

Chapter 14: To Fix A Mistake

"Draco? He's here, Kreacher?"

"Perhaps Master Harry's hearing is damaged? Yes, Kreacher is proud to tell Master that the noble son of the Black and Malfoy families is standing in Master Harry's home," Kreacher replied, as he continued to rock to and fro on his feet in eager anticipation of serving Draco Malfoy. Seeing the house elf do this reminded Harry of Cornelius Fudge and brought back many difficult memories.

"Kreacher, stop that!" Harry demanded. "Show Draco, I mean, show Malfoy to the library. I will meet him there shortly."

The house elf bowed. and with a twist, he apparated out of the room. Harry sat there on his bed, puzzled as to why Draco Malfoy would come to his house. He tried to think back to his own response to Draco's letter, but all that Harry could see in his mind was the fact that Draco Malfoy now stood within the confines of #12 Grimmauld Place, Harry's home.

Harry looked furiously for his comb. He opened every drawer at least twice and rummaged through the closet before finding the comb under the bed. He had no idea how it had found its way there, which was not surprising, considering that he couldn't recall the last time he had used it. He dusted the comb on the front of his sweater, stood in front of the mirror, and hastily raked at his hair. When he had forced it into some semblance of order, he yanked off Mrs. Weasley's sweater and tossed it onto the bed. He had one of his old tee shirts under it as well as a pair of faded blue jeans. For a moment, he considered pulling on a robe to make himself look like a proper wizard.

"No," he said to his own reflection. "Bad enough Kreacher's treating him like royalty. I'm not going to show him he's put me on edge."

But Draco had, in fact, surprised Harry. Why is he here? Harry wondered, pacing back and forth between the bed and the window. Based on Draco's letter, he could think of no logical reason for his former enemy to visit. Could it be that something in Harry's reply had caught Draco's attention?

"My reply," Harry said as he gazed at himself in the mirror. "Of course. I thanked him for taking me into his confidence, and for warning me about Lucius, but also I said that I believed his words, and hoped to one day make amends for everything that has happened between us in the past. I wanted to try to make things right, if Draco would allow that to happen."

His mouth went dry, and he felt his palms beginning to itch with sweat. "And now he is here because of that, hopefully. Still, I wonder what it is he wants?" Harry looked into the mirror at his own reflection, wishing that it could give him the answer to his questions. Deciding that he had delayed Draco for long enough, he tucked his wand into his front pocket and proceeded toward the library.

"Master Harry shan't be long, Master Malfoy, sir," the wrinkled little elf whined apologetically. He rubbed his small hands together and looked up at Draco the same way Kraven always eyed Draco's father. The fawning adoration was only proper, of course, but it still made Draco strangely uncomfortable.

"How long will he be?" Draco demanded. "I didn't come here to be kept waiting all night!" His patience had begun to wear thin, as he had been in the library now for at least twenty minutes. He had helped himself to a chair and had set his suitcase on a small reading table, and he now found himself fidgeting in frustration. With his right hand, he probed the bruises on his left, morbidly fascinated with the contrast between dull and sharp pain.

"Kreacher does not know, Master Malfoy." The elf's ears drooped, and his long nose twitched with distress.

"Bloody Saint Potter, he always has to make an entrance for himself. I never should have listened to Mother. I should have gone somewhere better, anywhere but here! What was I thinking, listening to her?"

The house elf made a low groaning sound. "Kreacher could go to fetch Master Harry for Master Malfoy..."

"Yes, go make yourself useful." Draco waved a hand to dismiss the house elf, who then vanished, leaving him alone with the Black family books.

He stood up from the chair and walked in a slow circle around the room. The first thing that caught the Slytherin's attention was the Black family tree on the wall. Draco briefly examined it before eyeing the book shelves behind the desk. "I wonder what books Potter likes to read?" Draco muttered to himself as he walked behind the desk and began looking through the rows of books that lined the shelves. The shelves contained books about the Black family, but these did not interest Draco, and apparently they had not caught Harry's eye either; most of them were covered in a thick layer of dust. He turned and began to rifle through the stacks of books that were on the desk.

"Hmm, interesting. He's fascinated by Dark Magic."

"Yes, you might say I do have a personal interest in the subject," Harry's voice came from behind Draco. Momentarily startled, Draco spun around. His elbow collided with a stack of books, causing it to lean and sway precariously.

Harry grinned as he watched Draco attempt to steady the stack, and he laughed out loud when the books went crashing to the floor.

"It seems that you are not so perfect after all," Harry said. "Just think what some of the other Slytherins would think if they saw what just happened. Clumsy, Draco Malfoy, can't even walk around a library without knocking over a stack of books."

"Shut it, Potter! Or I will shove one of these books into that big mouth of yours!" Draco shouted as he tried to regain his composure. "Only an idiot stacks books that high- I barely touched them, and look what happened!"

Unwilling to admit Draco's obvious point, Harry waved a hand and flashed a patronizing smile that made Draco want to curse him. "Don't worry about the books, Malfoy. Kraven will pick them up later."

"No, I'll do it," Draco said quickly. He wanted something to do with his hands, and some excuse to look away from Potter. The Gryffindor was wearing obscene Muggle pants that hung low on his hips and a short-sleeved shirt that might have fit him properly five years ago. Draco could see every contour of Potter's scrawny torso, and the effect was unsettling.

Draco knelt and began collecting the books and placing them back on the desk in a series of short stacks. Several of the titles caused him to raise an eyebrow. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and The Dark Arts Outsmarted both caught his attention. He held the latter volume up and waved it at Potter. "What are you reading this for? I thought you were the all-knowing expert on saving the world from dark wizards."

"You know better than that," Harry scoffed. "I've been lucky, mostly, and I've had help, but I can't always count on luck or on other people. Take a seat, Malfoy," Harry extended his hand toward the chair in front of the desk. "I think we have a few things to discuss. Most importantly, why you are here in my home?"

Leaving the books, Draco sat down in the chair. Harry perched on the edge of the desk and twisted so that he faced Draco, leaning on the heel of one hand.

Draco looked away, preferring the sight of the books on the floor to that of Potter staring down at him. "Honestly, Potter, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Oh, really? So is everything that you wrote in your letter a lie? Because if I can't trust you to tell me the truth now, then I cannot trust what you wrote."

Draco snorted and shook his head. He looked up at Harry before looking away, choosing instead to focus on the bruise on his left hand. "It's complicated, Potter, and I wouldn't want you to overwork your brain while trying to figure it out."

Harry crossed his arms and let out a sigh that sounded more like a hiss. His eyes narrowed as he studied Draco's face. "So what do you call this? A social call? What, did you just want to drop by and see how 'The Chosen One' is getting along now?"

Draco began to mouth an answer but Harry interrupted. "And why a luggage case? Do you plan on staying, or moving in? I do have to admit that today has been a day of unexpected visitors for me."

"Oh? What do you mean, Potter? Who was here? Was it-"

"Never mind, no one that matters to you, and it's not important right now. I'm still waiting on your answer, Malfoy; why are you here?"

"Why is it so bloody important for you to know?" Draco snapped. "As if you have any business asking questions. I talked to Mother, Potter. She told me about how she risked her life to save you. You owe my family, so if I say I need a place to stay, my word should be enough."

Harry stood up, and his hand moved to the butt of his wand, which protruded from his front pocket. His eyes had narrowed further, and his face had gone pale save for splotches of angry red on his cheeks. "If it were Narcissa needing a room, she could have it. Her word would be enough. Your word isn't, not without an explanation."

Draco looked from Harry's wand to his face, shaking his head with disgust. It was just like Potter to try to bully him with magic, especially when Draco's wand was tucked away in his luggage case. "Look, if I were going to hurt you, would I have come unarmed?" He raised his hands, palms out and fingers spread for emphasis.

"If you're not here on Death Eater business, why are you unwilling to explain yourself?" Harry countered.

Draco's mind worked feverishly as he tried to choose between lying to Potter, or opening up and telling him the truth. Finally, he decided and tilted his head up, looking directly at the Gryffindor. "Alright, Potter. Sit down and take your hand off your wand. There will be no tricks, no lies; I will tell you the truth."

After nodding, Potter resumed his perch on the edge of the desk, leaning forward on both of his hands.

Draco took a deep breath and sat forward in the chair. He hated being loomed over like this, but standing up would only show Potter that he had succeeded in making Draco uncomfortable. "As I told you before, things at Malfoy Manor have been difficult after returning back from Hogwarts. Father and Mother have been at each other constantly since we returned. I have grown tired of that, especially of Father." As Draco finished his explanation, he began to cough, his throat burning from the dust he had stirred up from the books.

"Kreacher, a cup of water," Harry said softly.

Seconds later a shining, crystal glass of water appeared before Draco. He took the glass and admired it before drinking.

"First you send your eagle, then you come here yourself. How do you know where I live?" Harry asked.

"Trade secrets, Potter; it wasn't hard." Draco grinned enjoying Harry's confusion as he took another sip of the cold water. "I came here tonight because I have taken matters into my own hands, so to speak. Father seems to be more devious than normal as of late. As I told you in the letter, he has some kind of plan in place regarding you."

Harry began to ask a question before Draco put his hand into the air to stop him.

"I don't know what he wants, so don't bother asking. Father did not tell me what it is. He only wanted me to become better acquainted with you."

"And is that why you are here tonight? To become better acquainted with me at Lucius Malfoy's request? I thought you were sick of your father." Harry again folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes, I am. Sick of my father, that is. I'm not here to become acquainted with you. I am tired of doing what Father says, and having to go along with his plans."

"Then I don't understand why you're here."

"I only need to stay for two weeks," Draco told him. "Then you'll be rid of me."

Harry uncrossed his arms and drummed his fingers on the table. "Yeah, fine. But first give me one good reason to trust you, Malfoy. Tell me the real reason why you're here. You put up with Lucius for eighteen years and suddenly you can't stand him?"

Draco finished the rest of the water, but his mouth still felt lined with sand. He looked down at the desk as he began to speak, watching Harry's hand because he didn't want to look him in the eyes. "Father seems to enjoy using Unforgivable Curses upon his own family. He has used the Cruciatus Curse on me before, and he has used it on Mother as well."

"Draco..." Harry's fingers stopped drumming on the table, and he raised his hand as if he were going to put it on Draco's shoulder. Instead, he let it hover in the air a moment and then fall back to the table. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Potter. I don't need your pity."

"You can stay as long as you need to," Harry offered. "Why two weeks?"

"Father came home tonight in a drunken stupor after visiting the Minister of Magic. He said that the Ministry plans to begin placing Death Eaters and their families on trial, starting with the Malfoy family first. In two weeks, I go before the Wizengamot to answer for the attempted murder of Dumbledore. Father has some sort of plan to restore us to glory, though, and it involves you."

Harry laughed at the notion, although it was a sharp, humorless laugh. "What am I supposed to do to save you?"

Draco's brow furrowed at Harry's laugh. Bloody Gryffindors, he thought to himself. Draco shrugged. "I wasn't able to find out. He says I'll find out when it becomes important for me to know, or some such rubbish. Father threatened to use his wand against me, and Mother as well, tonight. I had seen and heard enough from the old man, so I hexed him before he could unleash the Cruciatus on me again."

"I didn't know you had it in you to curse your own father," Harry said dryly. When Draco looked up at him, he though he caught a glimpse of admiration in those green eyes.

"Well I did, and I am glad that I did it. He deserved that and more."

"So did my uncle Vernon," Harry muttered. "You don't know how many times I wished I could just make him disappear, or worse. They kept me locked in the cupboard under the stairs in their home, and at the same time worshiped the ground that my cousin Dudley walked on."

"Your Muggle uncle?" Draco snorted. "He couldn't even hex you."

"That doesn't matter. I was a child. He could do whatever he bloody well wanted to. Do you know what it's like to be locked in a room infested with spiders, only to be let out when they want you to be, and then told you must bow to their every order and do everything they say? Then, even when you do try to do something right, you're beaten for it because it wasn't done fast enough or well enough, or because they felt like it. Can you imagine what that is like, Malfoy?"

Draco frowned and swept his eyes over Harry, seeing him in a new light. He wondered where Vernon had hit him and how long it had taken the bruises to heal. He also wondered what this Vernon looked like and what it would be like to turn the Cruciatus curse on him. "I can imagine," he whispered, squeezing his left hand and remembering the sting of the silver snake's head.

Harry moved quickly, startling Draco so much that he froze as Harry seized both his hands, pulled them apart, and held them up to inspect them. After dropping Draco's right hand, Harry traced Draco's bruise with a finger. "I think you can," he said. He winced as he followed the contours of the mottled, swollen patch. "I can have Kreacher see to this."

"No!" Draco recoiled from Harry. "It's nothing. And never do that again, Potter." The feeling of Harry's light, cool touch lingered on his hand. He had wanted it to continue, and he hated the very thought of wanting anything from Potter.

"Fine," Harry agreed, looking down at Draco with pity, which was worse than his usual smirking superiority. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, closed it, and finally muttered, "So you can't go home now, not after cursing your father."

"Not unless I fancy being tortured I can't." Draco shook his head, trying to clear his mind of what it felt like to be placed under the Cruciatus Curse by his own father. "Mother came in after it had happened and said that the best place for me to go was here." Draco raised both hands above his shoulders, pointing them at the ceiling.

"And you're sure she's right?" Harry asked.

"Mother would never place me in harm's way," Draco replied.

"Yes, I agree. There is an unusual good quality about your Mother, even if she is married to a Death Eater." Harry flashed a smile that looked like nothing Draco had seen before. It was almost as if he had forgotten how much the two of them hated each other. "All right, you can stay the night, and until the trial if you must, but we will discuss everything else in the morning. Good enough for you?"

"Yes, Potter. That will suffice for tonight." Draco stood up from the chair, and Harry hopped up from the edge of the table.

"Very well. Kreacher!"

The house elf apparated into the room, landing on top of the desk. He bowed to Harry, and then made an even longer bow to Draco. "How may Kreacher serve both masters tonight?"

"Kreacher, go and prepare the guest bedroom, and take-"

"Kreacher has already gotten the guest bedroom prepared and has taken Master Malfoy's belongings there. Kreacher has even prepared Master Malfoy a bowl of fresh onion soup if Master Malfoy would want."

"Well there you go, Malfoy, looks like you are all set for the night," Harry said. He made his way out of the library and disappeared down the dark hallway

"Follow Kreacher, Master Malfoy." Kreacher jumped off of the desk and led Draco out of the room and up to the third floor landing. He opened the door as Draco stepped into a dust and cobweb free bedroom. A silver four-poster bed frame stood in the room surrounded by green, satin curtains.

"Has Kreacher done well, Master Malfoy?" Kreacher asked as he spread his arms in an expansive gesture that included the whole room.

"Yes, Kreacher, you have. Close the door on your way out," Draco replied as he walked into the room, noting how similar it looked to his own bedroom at Malfoy Manor. The door closed shut behind him, and Draco sat on the bed, admiring its softness and the silkiness of the sheets.

It hadn't been as bad as he had feared, Draco reflected as he pulled off his shoes and began to undress. Talking with Potter had almost been easy. When he had folded his clothes and placed them on the night table, he lay back on the bed. Grimmauld Place felt like home, probably because by rights, it was his, or would have someday been his if his Mother's cousin hadn't left it to Potter. He belonged here as much as he ever had at Malfoy Manor.

The morning sun stabbed through the gap between the curtains in Harry's bedroom, cutting through his sleep. Seconds later, bright green eyes slowly opened to welcome the new day. Partially awake now, having reached for his glasses, Harry sat on the edge of the bed rubbing the light areas of unshaven skin on his jaw and neck. Suddenly remembering that he was not alone in the house, he jumped off the bed, his brain now clear of the hazy veil from his sleep.

After pulling on his jeans from yesterday and a fresh tee shirt, he opened the bedroom door and walked out onto the stairwell landing. He looked down the hallway to the other bedroom that occupied this floor. The room had once belonged to Regulas Black, but was now the guest bedroom. Harry walked to the door and hesitated in front of it.

"Was it all a dream?" Harry whispered to himself, mentally replaying last night's events. Draco's arrival, and the subsequent conversation, seemed surreal. However, if it had been a dream, it would have ended differently. It had to have been real, and that meant Draco Malfoy was on the other side of the door.

The decent thing to do would be to knock, or to wait for Draco to wake up on his own. Still, Harry's hand found its way to the knob, which turned easily in his hand. Mercifully, the door swung open silently with no creaking hinges to alert Draco to his presence. Bright early morning sunlight flooded through the window and covered the silver bed frame with a golden hue. Against the dark backdrop of the green satin pillowcase, Draco's skin seemed to glow with its own golden light, and his hair took on a metallic sheen. Asleep, his face expressionless, Draco looked young and vulnerable, almost delicate.

"Absolutely beautiful," Harry whispered.

Without waking Draco, Harry closed the door and walked downstairs toward the kitchen, but he would never forget the image he had just seen.

One hour later, Harry found himself looking into the bedroom again at the sleeping Slytherin. Draco had stirred in his sleep, partially throwing off the covers. The sunlight now beamed on the soft, pale flesh of his torso. In an instinctive attempt to block the sun, Draco had draped his left arm over his eyes, and Harry could see the fading lines of the Dark Mark marring the perfect skin above Draco's wrist. Oh, how he wanted to go into the room, slip under the blankets and just cradle Draco until he woke up. Harry exhaled deeply and slowly as this thought passed through his mind.

"Master Harry must not awaken Master Draco." The voice spoke from behind Harry, and he jumped, almost slamming the door in the process.

After glancing at Draco to make sure he had not been disturbed, Harry shut the door with great deliberation, ensuring that it closed quietly and completely. Once he had heard the soft click of the latch, he pivoted to face the house elf.

"Kreacher, what are you doing sneaking up on me like that?" Harry hissed. "I'm not going to wake him."

"Master Harry is watching his guest. This makes twice now this morning that Kreacher has seen Master Harry do this. Does Master wish Kreacher to awaken Master Malfoy?"

"No, Kreacher," Harry said. "You are to promise me that you will never tell Draco that I have done this. One more thing, please stop calling him Master Malfoy. This isn't his house, it's mine."

"Kreacher will do as Master Harry says."

"Good. Now let's go. Draco will be awake soon," Harry said as he looked back at the door one last time.

Shortly thereafter, Draco entered the kitchen, where Harry sat drinking tea and leafing through The Dark Arts Outsmarted. The Slytherin's black robes looked stiff, as if freshly pressed, and his hair had been styled with a precision that bordered on a neurosis. Draco looked first at Harry's unshaven face and then glanced down at his Muggle clothing. His mouth twisted into a small, contemptuous smirk.

"You look like rubbish, Potter.

In spite of the words, Draco's tone lacked its usual venom, and so Harry chose to ignore the quip.

"Morning, Malfoy," Harry said before taking a sip of his tea. "Hungry?"

Draco nodded. Harry called for Kreacher, and in moments, they each had a plate full of toast, jam, and bacon along with a steaming cup of hot tea.

Draco looked down at the plate of food and wrinkled his nose before taking a tentative bite of the toast. As he ate the rest of the breakfast, his eyes wandered all over the room. Whenever his gaze fell on some imperfection, such as the water stain on the ceiling or the cracks in the plaster behind the peeling wallpaper, he would shake his head slightly.

Half an hour later, after Harry had eaten two helpings of breakfast, Draco finished eating and swallowed the last drop of tea.

"Finished?" Harry asked as he had been watching Draco eat for the last few minutes.

"Yes," Draco replied wiping the last bit of crumb from his lips. "Such as it was."

"Well, at least it was something. I could have not offered you anything," Harry said as he got up from the table.

He stood, picked up his book, and made his way to the library, curious to see if Draco would follow. After shelving the book, he turned and was pleased to see that Draco had settled himself in one of the two upholstered armchairs. Harry took hold of the second chair and pulled it across the room so that it faced Draco's. When Harry sat down, their knees nearly touched. From this distance, he could study Draco's face carefully and look for any indication that the Slytherin was lying to him.

"You're not here to spy on me for your father," Harry began, "but you decided that, of all places, this was best for you. Why?"

"Potter, I know where you are going with your questions, so just stop it. I know it is just as difficult and strange for you as it is for me to be sitting here facing one another without our wands drawn," Draco paused and looked away for a moment before continuing. "The fact of the matter is this. What I wrote to you in the letter, and what I said to you last night is true. I am tired of Father, and I am tired of having to do everything that he says. I …I just want to try to live a normal wizard's life. I am sick of being led around by Dark Lords, black secrets, and of having to live my life by Father's hand."

Harry took a deep breath while he studied Draco's face. "I believe you, Malfoy. I saw it in your eyes that night on the Astronomy Tower."

"You what?" Draco asked, sitting forward in his chair.

"I was there, Malfoy. I was under my cloak and Dumbledore had placed a charm over me so that I could not move or speak, but I saw everything. I know that you could not kill Dumbledore," Harry said. "As much as you wanted to try and be a Death Eater, you're not a murderer."

"You were there," Draco repeated softly. "You saw everything?" His eyes widened, and his hands clenched on his own knees, his knuckles whitening. "If you saw what truly happened, then you can speak for me at the trial. They'll believe you."

"I can speak for you," Harry agreed. And if they don't believe me, he added mentally, I'll find a way to get you out of there. We'll go somewhere safe. If we have to we can go into the Muggle world, and I will make sure that neither the Ministry nor any Aurors will ever catch you.

"Thanks. You're wrong about me, you know. I never wanted to be a Death Eater. I didn't want to be one of them, and now I'm being blamed for what they did!"

"And that's why you're here," Harry said, nodding to himself as he pieced it together. "You have nowhere else to turn. Half your friends were Death Eaters, and the other half will not help you because it wouldn't be to their advantage. Without your Slytherin friends, you are as vulnerable as anybody else is."

Draco scowled, and a flush of anger, or perhaps shame, spread through his cheeks. "And what about you, Potter? Father always told me that you managed to make it through because of your friends and pure luck."

"He's right. I won't lie about it," Harry answered, "Without Hermione and Ron at times, I would not have been successful. Take them away and I am as vulnerable as you are. People seem to have this image of me, Harry Potter, as the wizard who cannot be killed. I have bad news for them, I have died once already. And yes, it was at the hands of Voldemort."

Draco did not flinch at the sound of the name, but instead raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'you died'? Is that some sort of metaphor for you feeling sorry for yourself and living here in this dump all alone?"

"No, it's the literal truth; I died. I won't bore you with a history lesson, Malfoy, but you have heard of horcruxes, yes?" Draco nodded. "Good. Voldemort split his soul into seven horcruxes. Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I managed to destroy six of them."

"And the seventh?" Draco asked.

"The seventh was inside of me. In order for it to be destroyed, I would have to be killed. My death was the only way for Voldemort to be defeated."

Draco's flush had disappeared and now he sat back in his chair, giving Harry the same rapt attention he had usually saved for Professor Snape. "What happened?"

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "Some people may call it Heaven, while others would simply say it was the afterlife. However you may call it what you like, but I did go there. Inside of this world, I spoke with Dumbledore, except in the end it all became King's Cross Station, and I returned into my body. When I barely opened my eyes I was back in the Forbidden Forest and your mother was kneeling over me, examining me to see if I was alive. Had Voldemort sent Bellatrix or another Death Eater to see if I was dead, I would not be here today speaking to you," Harry said.

"You sacrificed yourself," Draco said flatly, his face unreadable as he frowned at Harry.

"Don't you start with that!" Harry shook his head. "I'm tired of hearing about it. I did what I had to do, just as you did what you had to do in order to save your father. All that matters is that Voldemort is finally dead, and I'm glad."

"That makes two of us that are glad that the bastard is dead," Draco said as he held out his left arm and rolled up his sleeve. "I hated being a Death Eater, and being intimidated by him. He would always make a mockery of our family, except for Bellatrix. Truthfully, I am not sure he cared for her either. I think he just put up with her to use her for his gain."

They both looked at Draco's arm where the Dark Mark had begun to fade. "You can still see it, but it is slowly disappearing," Draco said as he pushed his sleeve down. "I suppose I should thank you for that? Add that to the list of things I owe you, Potter, along with letting me stay in your house and feeding me that wretched breakfast."

"Maybe you don't have to owe me, Draco." Harry felt his face heat, and he rubbed his palms against the knees of his pants to dry them. He spoke the next words quickly, unable to look at Draco as he did so. "Maybe we could be friends, and then it wouldn't matter who owed whom."

Draco scoffed. "Friends? I tried being your friend seven years ago, but you turned away from me."

"You wouldn't have wanted me for a friend, anyway, not then, not once you found out I had Muggle blood."

"I was a stupid kid!" Draco snarled, pouting. "If you had given me a chance instead of running off with Granger and Weasley, I would have seen that Father was wrong. If I had you instead of Crabbe and Goyle…" He shrugged and shook his head sadly. "You never gave me the chance to change, or a reason to."

Harry looked directly into Draco's blue-grey eyes. "I know," Harry began, "I know that we cannot go back and correct what has been done in the past. But we can start a better and new future. I'm here now trying to fix a mistake that I made seven years ago." Harry extended his hand outward for Draco to shake, opposite shades of what occurred seven years earlier.

Draco looked at Harry's extended hand, and then looked back into Harry's eyes. He rolled up his sleeve again and raised his arm so that the Dark Mark pointed out at Harry. "I still have this, and if that weren't enough, I'm being tried as a criminal. No wizard in his right mind would want to be associated with me. If I do accept your handshake, what about your friends, what will they think?"

Harry placed his left hand onto his forehead and pushed the hair upward, exposing the lightning shaped scar to Draco. "I have this, Malfoy. What about your friends? Are you going to be worried about what they say about you when you're not around? Are you worried what they'll think if you're seen with the Chosen One? Because I'm not. I don't care what people say about me"

"And what do you get out of this?" Draco wondered aloud, his eyes narrowing.

Harry laughed, but still refused to lower his hand. "Spoken like a true Slytherin. A friend doesn't have to ask that question, Draco."

With great deliberation, Draco reached out and took Harry's hand in a firm grip. "Alright, Potter, friends it is."

The handshake lasted seconds, but for Harry it erased years of animosity. When they released each other, Harry slumped back into his chair with relief, but Draco sat stiffly, brooding almost as if he regretted their friendship already.

"Draco?" Harry prompted. "Is there something else?"

"A friend doesn't have to answer that question," Draco snapped. "It's nothing you can help with."

"Fine." Harry sighed, irritated that Draco had to ruin an important moment with his petulant sulking. Being friends with Draco, clearly, was not going to be an easy path. He almost found himself gaining respect for Crabbe and Goyle.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Darkness Within The Light