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Fine Lines	By : squirrelchaser Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 8056 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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I
told her everything, from when I was initiated as a Death Eater until the very
moment before I sat here in her office. �Professor McGonagall,� I finished in a
shaky voice. �He�ll kill me. He�ll kill Mother and Father, too.�

�You�ve
said that, Malfoy,� was the dry reply, but her expression
had softened.

That
was almost the lowest point, realizing that I was begging someone else for
help.

�Minerva,�

I
jumped, and realized guiltily that it was the portrait of Dumbledore whom had
spoken.

�There
is the Order�� he said, raising his eyebrows, voice trailing off suggestively
as he pressed his fingertips together.

�Yes,
Albus, I know, but do you think�?� She turned and
stared at me a little longer. �Do you mind, Malfoy? I
would like to have a word.�

She
did come up with a solution. She summoned me back to the office and when I got
there, Potter was there too, looking annoyed.

I
sneered at him, and he sneered back.

�Sit,�
she said, flicking her wand in my direction.

A
straight backed wooden chair was conjured directly behind me, sweeping forward
and scooping me along to come to a stop next to Potter, before her desk.
McGonagall looked at us evenly, and announced that she and Dumbledore had
thought it best to �

�-Send
me to Godric�s Hollow? To live with
Potter? Why?� I said
incredulously, unable to hide my disgust at the thought of spending an entire
summer with�Potter. Didn�t this woman notice how much we hated each other, or maybe she had mistaken the hexing, punching,
and screaming for some sort of sadistic/masochistic friendship?

McGonagall�s
lips thinned.

�Don�t
sound so excited; I don�t want you anywhere near me either,� Potter snapped,
and his voice rose as he turned on McGonagall. �What I want to know is: you believe him? He tried to kill
Dumbledore, and now you�re putting him at the Headquarters of the Order?�
Potter jumped out his chair and pointed at me accusingly. �Ask him; tell her, Malfoy! He�s a Death Eater. No offense, Professor, but that
sounds like a really-�

�That�s
enough, Potter,� McGonagall cut him off sharply. �Sit down. Malfoy
has told me what he has done, and I know for a fact what he has not done. Voldemort� � I winced � �will be looking for him.� She
looked at me again. �The Order will be able to keep him safe, and right now Godric�s Hollow is the safest that I can think of. Which is
why, Malfoy, you must not leave the cottage
property.�

�But
what if he�s a spy?� Potter shouted, flushing angrily. �You were wrong about Snape � you all were � and now�� his voice trailed off when
McGonagall looked at him with such sadness and fury that he didn�t dare to
continue.

�I
have my sources,� McGonagall said severely, sitting bolt upright in her chair.
�But even if he is, he shall be kept watch over, day and night, for safety and
to ensure that he does not leak information. Am I right, Phineus?�
She glanced sharply at a portrait on the wall.

The
figure in the portrait gave a bored yawn which McGonagall took to be a yes.

�Can�t
I just stay at Hogwarts?� I begged, the thought of spending months in the Room
of Requirement being preferable to a summer of Scarhead.

�No,
Malfoy�Hogwarts is not safe � as safe � as before.�

�What
if I refused to leave?�

�I
hear that Voldemort favors the Cruciatus
curse, among others,� she replied, and I cringed. �Of course,� she looked at
Potter, who was glowering sullenly in his chair. �You have no obligation to
share your home.�

�What
if I don�t?� Potter said.

�You
don�t have to. Malfoy can be hidden elsewhere, but
not as thoroughly.�

Like
Potter would care, I thought, bitter at the realization that I was now at the
mercy of someone I had hated, teased, and tortured for the past six years.

For
a long moment he was quiet, and McGonagall continued to stare. �No. Malfoy can come,� Potter said finally. He stood, jaw
tightening as he said, �Just know, Malfoy, that I
don�t trust you. None of us do.� And he stalked from the room.

I
would have much rather him have hexed me and run away
laughing. Even if Potter hated and didn�t trust me, I was shocked at his
decision. Where I would have been cruel, Potter had been kind and I was humbled
and grateful but too proud to say so out loud. That was the lowest point, especially when you�ve been given
everything your entire life.

McGonagall
looked at me over the rims of her glasses again, as she held out her hand. �I
shall take your wand for safe keeping, Mr. Malfoy.�

�Why?
I�m of age; I can practice magic anywhere!�

�In
the event that you are not telling the truth, we don�t want you to have it for
as long as you shall be in our confidence,� was her blunt answer.

�I
need it. Defense. Times have been dark and dangerous
lately, in case you haven�t noticed,� I said staunchly, clutching it inside my
robe.

�It
shall be returned to you,� McGonagall said firmly still holding out her hand.

For
a moment we stared, but she wasn�t going to back down. Slowly, begrudgingly, I
handed her my wand.

�Very good. Now. I shall be
sending members of the Order to your parents to keep them safe, if that�s what
they want. But, Draco,� she softened and lowered her voice. �We can only help
them if they want to be helped.�

I
nodded.

�So
you shall be spending the summer at Godric�s Hollow.�

Under
her eagle eyed stare I fidgeted, waiting for some variation of �I told you so,�
followed by a reprimand for my behavior towards Potter and his little friends
for all these years. But instead all she said was,

�Get
your things. I�ll be coming with you to keep an eye on what you put in your
trunk. Go on now.�

Godric�s Hollow was a mingling of wizards and muggles in a small village. The houses were small and
quaint�very different. Potter had a little cottage that stood by its self just
behind a bare patch of brown earth, beyond on the outskirts and the hustle of
the village streets. The property must have been well hidden by spells and Unplotable for Harry had the cab stop on a street corner
and we had to drag our trunks quite a way.

�It
was just built. We�ll be in the process of making it liveable,�
Harry mumbled, not looking at me as he pushed past through the front door.

I
could feel my upper lip curling as I stood in the entryway. The cottage was a
tiny, two bedroom cage. I was to spend who knows how long cooped up in this
hole, with how many others from the Order? �The sooner you get rid of the Dark
L-�er, You-Know-Who, the sooner I�ll be out of here.�

�Could
be worse,� he said flatly, walking into the kitchen as I struggled to haul my
trunk over the door step. �At the other place we had to keep quiet or you�d
wake her up. Believe me, you didn�t want to disturb
her. On second thought, she might not have minded you.� He stalked off before I
could ask who I didn�t want to disturb.

�What�re
you doing here, Malfoy?�
came a familiar, doltish sounding voice.

I
whipped around to see Ron, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley
wedged in the doorway, staring with undisguised revulsion. Hermione Granger was
behind, straining to see around them, and Ron Weasley�s
mouth was gaping wide open, as usual.

�I�m
staying here,� I said, sticking out my chin defiantly as I wondered how many
bugs he inadvertently ate a year.

�Staying
here? Are you mad? Harry!� Weasley flushed.

�No,
no,� Mr. Weasley broke in, looking none too pleased and
a little defeated as he pushed through the door. �Professor McGonagall sent me
an owl. Malfoy�s right.�

�Why?�
spat Ginny. �We don�t want him here,�

�Why
are you here?� I snorted, sneering back at her. �Were you finally evicted from
your dump of a house, or did it just topple over on its own?� Stepping back I
gestured with mock grace into the hallway. �Of course, this isn�t what you�re
used to. There�s carpeting, running water, indoor plumbing��

Ron�s
face turned redder, and Mr. Weasley looked as if he
barely had his annoyance in check but he said, �Stop it, both of you.�

The
first few weeks in Godric�s Hollow were very hard.

I
had nightmares about You-Know-Who finding me and my parents. I had nightmares
about the night Dumbledore died, especially of Greyback�those were the worst, the most vivid.

Also,
it was hard because it was boring, being shut up inside a house with nothing to
do but worry, watching other people come and go as they pleased. Mostly it was
the Weasleys, with whom my family had had an�unfriendly history. I will say that Mrs. Weasley made some of the best meals I�d ever eaten, and she
was over nearly every evening with the rest of her family and a random Order
Member, for some odd reason or another.

The
only easy thing was not fighting with Potter, oddly enough, after we had it out
in one big brawl. I�d been going up the stairs, hauling my trunk, and he�d been
coming down, and we tried to squeeze past each other without a word. As Potter
flattened himself to the wall I gave my trunk a mighty heave, wishing bitterly
I had my wand to levitate the stupid thing to my room. He was thrown off
balance and pitched down the stairs, landing at the bottom in a heap.

�Dammit, Malfoy!� he yelled,
sitting up and straightening his glasses.

�Maybe
if your feet weren�t bigger than Weasley�s, you
wouldn�t be so clumsy,� I sneered, unable to help myself.

�First
you try to kill me in my own house, then you insult me
and my friend; that�s rich!�

My
eyes narrowed and I said as nastily as I could, �Trust me, Potter, if I wanted
to kill you I�d have done it already.�

�Oh,
that�s right,� he stood up, flushing red. �You�re above the rules with your Cruciatus curse in the bathroom at Hogwarts-�

�Yeah,�
I snarled, one hand going instinctively to cover my chest. �That�s rich. Your sectumsempra incantation was loads of innocent fun! �I didn�t know what it
did,�� I mimicked, snarling.

�I
didn�t! You�re the Death Eater! Fine then! Have at it!� He whipped his wand out
and I braced myself, hand going for my wand but of course it wasn�t there.
Potter chucked his wand and it hit me in the forehead; I caught it before it
hit the ground and let my trunk slide down the steps to land with a thump at
Potter�s feet.

�Go
on, Malfoy,� he taunted, holding his arms out from
his sides. �Kill me and you become Voldemort�s
favorite! No one else is here. Here�s the words � or
didn�t your father teach you? � Avada Kedavra!�

My
face was getting very hot; I knew I was turning red. �What kind of an idiot are
you? Hoping that you get another scar so you can be twice as famous as you are
now? The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again?�

�Or
maybe I�m hoping you�ll get blown to smithereens in the process�but that doesn�t
matter because you can�t do it,� he said, looking unbearably triumphant and
smug.

�Don�t
be so disappointed!� I blazed, raising his wand. �Crucio!�

A
half-hearted beam of green light kind of jumped and fizzled out of the end of
the wand, striking Potter in the chest but he barely moved.

�You
really can�t,� he said again, softer this time.

To
perform any of the Unforgiveable Curses you had to
truly want to hurt, kill, and control someone. I guess, somewhere deep in my
soul, I didn�t want to hurt him; I hadn�t forgotten that I was in his house, essentially under his protection. He was right of
course, which made me even madder.

My
wand hand was trembling as I lowered it slowly. �Alright, I CAN�T DO IT. Happy now, Golden Boy?� I threw his wand at his head, hoping
it�d poke out his eye. It didn�t and clattered to his feet, and I grabbed my
trunk and hauled it off, without another word or look.

After
that we ignored one another, mostly not talking. There were other aspects that
made it strange to live with Potter, seeing the things he did on a day to day
basis, like brushing his teeth. Somehow, it just seemed too much of a
disillusion to see the Chosen One, or the Boy-Who-Lived foaming at the mouth,
doing something as mundane and ordinary as brushing his teeth. But his presence
was sporadic. He�d be gone for a few days at a time here and there.

Members
of the Order would still come in and out nearly every night and I kept well out
of their way. The Order was decidedly cool but not particularly unkind�which
speaks well of them all things considered. Largely I was ignored, unless
requested, �Malfoy, pass the butter�please,� at
dinner, save the time one of the Weasleys slipped me
a nose-biting tea cup.

�OW!
What the-?� I yelled, dropping the cup and the tea in
my lap. The tea was very hot, and I yelled again and swore as it soaked through
my clothes, jumping up and shaking them out with one hand as I rubbed my
stinging nose with the other. Through watering eyes I saw Ron and Ginny
exchanging glances and smirking.

�I
sure wish we had invented those first,� Fred or George commented to George or
Fred between mouthfuls of potato. �Though the Drool Glasses are coming along��

Mrs.
Weasley had made her way around the table and was
dabbing at me with a napkin.

�Hold
still, Draco,�

�Doesn�t
feel good, does it, Malfoy?� Ron sneered.

I
glared at him.

�What�re
you gonna do without your cronies to sick on us?�

�Ron,�
his mother said in a warning tone.

Weasley�s expression turned vindictive, even around
his mouthful of peas. �Mum, Draco is a Malfoy, and in
case you haven�t noticed, the Malfoy�s are Death
Eaters-�

�Lay
off him, Ron,� Potter said suddenly before turning back to his fried chicken.

Ron
stared at Potter in surprise. Ginny stared at Potter in surprise. I stared at
Potter in surprise. Then Mr. Weasley cleared his
throat and started talking about the latest Quidditch
tournament, and the evening continue on as if nothing had ever happened.

I
thought of my parents, mainly my Mother, whom had laughed in the face of those
sent to help her. Were they alright? Would the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, do
something horrible to them for my mistakes? Or�worse?
Were they - ?

�Not
that I have heard,� Mr. Weasley said, the same answer
to the same question that I asked every night when the Order of the Phoenix met. �As far as I know, they�re both
alive.� His face went funny and I wasn�t sure if he seemed glad of it or not.

Sometimes,
when I posed this question, I would catch Potter looking at me out of the
corner of his eye. When I would turn and look at him directly he would mumble
something and wander off with Ron or Ginny.

�What�re
you looking at?� I demanded, when I asked my usual question and saw both Granger,
who was visiting, and Harry looking at me, heads cocked to one side
inquisitively.

Harry
shrugged and looked away, but Granger said,

�Well�you
just seem so, concerned,�

�So?
They�re only my parents you know,�

She
shrugged and said mildly, �They�re Death Eaters.�

A
little hurt I said hotly, �Just because I hate you doesn�t mean I can�t care
about anyone else! What kind of a person do you think I am,
mud - Granger!� I checked myself but it was too late; Ron Weasley
turned bright red and whipped his wand out.

�Stupefy!�

�Ron! NO!� Shrieked Granger,
Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny all at the same time.

My
whole body went rigid and I tipped forward onto the floor, face first.

�You
think you�re all that, Malfoy!� Weasley
was yelling as Potter and Granger held him back. �But really you�re still just
a filthy, cowering little ferret, only now you�re a ferret in hiding!�

Rushing
over, Mrs. Weasley murmured the counter jinx.

�Yeah,
but you know what�s sad, Weasley?� I yelled as soon
as I could move, sitting up and spitting blood.

�What?�
Weasley turned redder, daring me to tell him.

�Even
as a cowering little ferret, I�m still more than you!�

Weasley�s face was ugly with spite. �Just a Death
Eater, only you�re lousy at that too! It�s a shame You-Know-Who didn�t get his
hands on you!�

The
room went very quiet.

My
lip was split and bleeding, as was my nose, and my jaw ached terribly. Mrs. Weasley made a move toward me with a handkerchief but I
brushed her aside, glaring at Weasley, wishing
desperately I had my wand. Instead I turned on my heel and stormed up the
stairs.

�He
was unarmed, Ron,� I heard Granger say in a disapproving tone, before I slammed
my bedroom door.

�Temper,
temper,� snipped the portrait on my wall, which was usually blank but Phineaus had come to sneer. Potter had tacked it up in the
room the first day we got here. It was supposed to help �keep an eye on me,�
according to McGonagall.

�Shut
up,� I said thickly, pinching my nose against the flow of blood.

�Draco,�
Mrs. Weasley pushed the door open, a bottle of potion
in her hand. Her eyebrows knit and she looked truly sorry as she said, �Ron��
Her face went funny. �Here dear, let me fix you up.�

I
was shocked at her use of the word �dear.�

�Has
Arthur told you yet?� She asked, saturating a rag with smelly purple potion.

�Told
me what?� I said sullenly, dribbling blood down my chin. Gingerly, I wiped it
off with the back of my hand, and held the rag over the cut.

�Your
Father has escaped from Azkaban�not too hard considering the Dementors have gone,� she said, not looking at me.

�Really? Do you know where he is?� I asked eagerly.
�Is he alright?�

�We
don�t know anything,� she said, still not looking at me. �He�s not been to your
manor in Wiltshire. We don�t know where he or your Mother is anymore.�

�But
they�re not dead�as far as you know?�

�No.�

I
sighed. No news was good news�right?

TBC
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