Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Friend or Foe	By : Pseudonymous_Entity Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1919 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. All HP characters and world elements and rights belong to JK and Warner Bros. No profit is made from this work.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Harry already knew wizarding tents were bigger on the inside than they appeared on the outside.
Somehow that didn't prepare him for the Malfoy's tent. He did expect it to be larger than the Weasleys simply because the tent belonged to the Malfoys. The picture in his head didn't include a miniature palace complete with a grand staircase and white peacocks in the lush lawn outside of it. They did not, apparently, give any damns when it came to keeping a low profile. Draco to his credit seemed to know exactly how over the top and unnecessary his family was being, and he ownedthat like a prince strolling through his kingdom. The blonde headed straight for the tent, Harry in tow -or being dragged along really- ignoring the various witches and wizards -both foreign and domestic- trying to get a glimpse of which family was in that particular tent. He ignored a few who called out to him, opening the door and going inside without a second look to any of them. Harry gave an awkward wave when some of the recognized him, put two and two together, and realized Harry Potter was walking into the Malfoy's tent.
He'd be hearing about this at school...he could tell.
Harry walked inside to be presented with a rather lovely parlour...and no sign of Draco. The silence within a deep contrast to the deafening cheers of the crowd outside. Determined, Harry started up the grand staircase in search of his new -what?- companion? Friendlyish acquaintance? He could iron out those details later. One wrong turn was all it took for Harry to become ridiculously lost. And it was ridiculous because who on earth needed a tent that was three stories? No one! It would be so much easier to be angry about it if the tent wasn't amazingly decorated. The walls were a pale stone with designs in a silvery colour sprawling over them, all of it light it enough not to be too much to look at it. Everything in neutral or pale tones, down to the plants that smelled amazing. There were fountains in all shapes and sizes all over the place as well. It had a surprisingly relaxing atmosphere and Harry just knew he'd have to make up something dreadful to say about it when he was being interrogated by Ron later or his life would never be peaceful again. Ron didn't want to here that the tent was awesome, he wanted to hear that it was obnoxious and filled with Dark Artefacts. To be fair, some of these things could be Dark and nice looking at the same time.
It isn't as if Harry would know one way or the other unless there were labels.
Half an hour into what he was stubbornly calling a stroll and not the aimless wanderings of a lost person, he came across two familiar voices. He realized then that while he'd been enjoying himself Draco had been left alone with his father. It was funny wasn't it Before today he would never have known that that was something to be worried about. A lot of things can change in just a few hours. Reaching the end of the hall Harry pressed himself against the wall -which he could now verify was cool enough to the touch to be relief from the heat of the outdoors without being chilling and my god did he feel like he was writing an article for the paper or something- carefully keeping in the shadow. Lord Malfoy stood before a wall covered with portraits of various dead family members, watching his son gravely. Draco stood a few feet away, close enough he was not admitting to fear but not far enough to be safe. Safe. A child shouldn't have to worry about being safe from his father, in Harry's opinion. As horrid a human being as his Uncle Vernon was, he knew the man would never consider touching his son, and he was genuinely one of the worst people Harry had ever met.
That coming from a boy hiding in a Death Eater's tent!
"I am only looking out for you Draco, which would be far easier if you would quit this stubbornness and allow me to do so. You shouldn't have been so blind. Can't you see what he is doing? I had thought you cleverer than that." Harry was almost impressed by the way Lucius managed to be so horrible while having a pleasant expression on his face. It gave him a sort of sickly feeling.
"I am second in my year, father." Draco pointed out, evenly. Slytherins were a bit amazing in their ability to keep their faces calm when they must be bursting with emotion on the inside. Harry knew just from growing up with the Dursleys exactly how hard it was to do. There was something so appalling about watching Draco doing the very same thing. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but something inside of him riled up at the sight of it.
"Yes," Lucius agreed, "Behind the mudlood three years in a row. Well done."
Draco's eyes dimmed. "Yes, father."
The entire conversation was...difficult to watch. Harry felt so very wrong standing there, watching it without Draco's knowledge. He would never want anyone watching him with his family. The entire scene conflicted with everything he thought he knew about his classmate's life. And Draco loves his father, he idolized him. Everyone who had ever met the blonde surely knew that. For him to be there, standing silently while Lucius said horrid thing after horrid thing... This was worse, perhaps, than his relationship wth his own family. Harry never loved them and knew they would never love him. But Draco loved his father and was doing everything he could to earn his father's love in return...and all the evidence said that he was failing.
A wandless hex knocked Draco back half a foot. It was only the knowledge that Draco would reject his attempts to help in this moment that kept Harry from intervening. Draco would never want anyone to see this.
The blonde didn't show if it hurt, he took the hit and stood back where he had been. Face stoic. Lucius rested his hands on the cane in front of him, studying his son almost indifferently. "He wants something from you, you know." He taunted.
"You don't know that." Draco shifted, just barely, on his feet. The hex had hurt then.
Evidently, Draco's father realized this as well. Amused, Lucius leaned closer to his son, a smile growing when Draco just barely refrained from shrinking away from him. "I do, I do know that. They always want something do they not? Everyone is playing the game, Draco. The Potter boy is no different than any of the others and your ridiculous sentiment is blinding you. Figure out what he wants and then get him out of here. You should never have allowed him to come."
Draco's pale fingers curled into fists at his side, though he kept them there. Not daring to bring attention to them. "...he didn't act like he wanted something Father. He seemed like he just wanted to talk with me."
"Don't let him play you." Lucius straightened. He waved a hand like he was batting away a fly, as if his son's thoughts were no more important to him. Perhaps they weren't. "Do you really think Harry Potter wants to be friends with you? You're the young heir to a wealthy family with connections in the ministry. Real ones. Perhaps he wants information regarding the Tournament-"
"Potter has money and titles of his own, he doesn't need mine."
Lord Malfoy's cane was out and under Draco's chin. Harry froze though he wasn't even the one in danger. He knew from experience Lucius' wand was kept in the other end. "Do not...interrupt me. Less than a day and he's influenced you poorly. Usually, you're far better behaved." He moved, the cane lifting his son's chin in response so that he could look into his -now dull- silver eyes. Draco stiffened. "I'm not going to mark your face." Lucius chided. As if it weren't a perfectly valid response not to want Lucius Malfoy's wand anywhere near one's face. "Never the face. That's the only useful thing about you, isn't it? I'll get a good match out of you and maybe your sons will be more...impressive. I'll just have to live long enough to see one of them gets the title, won't I?"
"Father." Draco swallowed, looking almost desperate to be understood. " Father, please I-"
Lucius removed his cane abruptly. Draco fell forward in a response, unbalanced. "This discussion is over." Lord Malfoy turned around and walked three slow steps from his son. At the bottom to the stairs on the opposite end of the level Harry was on, Lucius paused. Without looking back he said, "If only we'd had another son. Alas."
Draco stood there, silent. Then Harry saw his classmate breakdown in a room alone. It wasn't loud and angry, as Harry might have been. The blonde merely sank to his knees, gathering his hair in his hands, and curled into himself crying quietly. It struck Harry that Draco must have learned to cry silently. He can't imagine Lucius Malfoy would have tolerated his son showing such weakness, least of all in a fashion that could be heard or noticed.
It hurt Harry's heart in a way that was utterly foreign to him. It hadn't occurred to him until this very moment how little he really cared for other people. How he did not bother to care. That specific feeling of guilt pierced him like an arrow passing through his body, yet leaving no sign on his skin. It was something internal that a plaster or stitches couldn't mend. He wasn't nearly as good a person as he'd always liked to think of himself. Was he? For is Harry was, if he truly cared about other people, it wouldn't have taken him four years to see something that -to him certainly of all people- ought to have seen straight-a-way. No. Harry had been too carried away with his own fears and insecurities and hopes for this new world that it had not once occurred to him that anyone else could ever feel as he had or live a life similar to his own. It was...quite the shock. Interactions with the blonde in the past flashed through his mind, and he saw every one of the in a new light. It was a problem Harry was going to fix starting right now.
He stepped back and followed after Lucius.
The walls and halls he walked through in his pursuit of Lord Malfoy were in such contrast to the man that Harry was certain someone else had to have designed it. The calming hues and scents didn't fit the man's hard, cruel nature. He ended up at a study of some sort. This was more like it, he thought. All dark wood shined and polished too much. Harry stopped at the door and knocked against the side of it flippantly. As if he expected him Lucius waved a hand for him to come in.
Harry entered slowly without bothering to glance around. The room wouldn't tell him anything about the occupant that he did not already know. "Evening sir." He said with a touch of irony in his voice.
"I do not pretend to know what you want with my son," Lucius stated, getting straight to the point. "I do ask that you get what you want and then stay out of it. He has more important things to focus his time on."
"Stay out of it," Harry repeated. "Well, now, it seems we're going to have to compromise a bit, sir. See, Draco happens to be my friend. I tend to check in on my friends to see how they're doing. What's going on in their lives." He held contact with Lucius' sharp eyes. "If there is anything I need to take care of."
"I'm trying to make him strong." Lord Malfoy hit his fist against his desk, losing his cool completely. Harry tended to have that effect on people. "The world that is coming will have expectations. I won't see my House in ruins because he can't bring himself to be who and what he needs to be, to do as his blood demands. You, you Potter must understand this. The Dark Lord is drawing nearer, there are signs everywhere. He will return, soon, and our House will once again be called into his service. You and I both know Draco is not who needs to be. It is perhaps my fault. I gave into his demands easily when he was young. I took too long to distance myself."
Harry felt...incredulous. "It is not your son's job or responsibility to clean up your mess Lucius. And it is your mess. Yours, my parent's, Ron's parents, Dumbledore's, The Ministry. All of you screwed it up for the rest of us. Do you want to know how you change the world? You must change people's minds! They have to give a damn. They need a reason to fight. Their damn perspective needs to be cracked open and swished around. If you don't do that then nothing is going to change, not for either side of this ridiculous fights. An argument I don't even understand. You can not expect him to be someone he is not."
Huh. Harry hadn't known he felt that strongly about it until that very minute.
"My son will do as I command-"
Harry took a dark pleasure in interrupting the man. "Have you met your son? If I pushed him off a bridge and told him to die he'd sprout wings just to spite me. He doesn't listen to anyone he only pretends to. Forcing him to make the mistakes you made will not end well, for any of us. Can't you see that? He can be a prick but he's not and will never be who you're trying to force him to be." He stood a little straighter now, filling up with an emotion he didn't understand that tended to come about where Draco was concerned lately. Or at least today. "You are right. He isn't who you need him to be...but he has friends that are more than willing to do what he will not...if he asks. To take care of his...problems. Keep that in mind." What the Hell was he saying? Oh, Lord, he was going to get himself killed defending someone he couldn't stand yesterday.
"Like you?" Lucius drawled. "Are you claiming to be my son's friend?"
"It really isn't any of your business what I am."
In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Yet he didn't and the hex surprised him more than it should have. Then another. And another. He stood, though, through it. It wasn't that bad really. Sure it stung all over now and he was pretty sure he was bleeding but honestly after being held down by Dudley and his friends while being stomped on and kicked this wasn't hard to deal with. Dudley had done worse. Vernon had done worse on days where work didn't go well and he'd had a bit too much to drink. And in that world, he'd been shoved into a closet afterward to deal with the pain for days afterward. This, this was nothing.
He allowed one more spell to hit him.
"Careful," he drawled in his best imitation of Draco when he was being a right git at school, "We can't be causing our guests permanent or mortal damage." He leaned forward a little, as if imparting a secret, though he knew Lucius would already know this. "Magic doesn't like it. Technically speaking, as I am a guest of your heir, that does make me a guest of your House while I am here, Lucius."
The man cocked his head. He seemed...perplexed.
"Oh, I am full of surprises," Harry said in response to the unasked question.
He managed to leave under his own power, not that Lord Malfoy would have assisted him. Honestly, Harry would rather have crawled out than asked if it had come to that. He walked along the hall, fingers trailing on the blessedly cool walls. Was this a wise choice? Maybe not. He couldn't explain his actions, even to himself. It was as if snakes curled up inside of him in a venomous rage whenever he saw the two interacting and he didn't know how to keep them from striking out.
Harry entered the room he last saw Draco in. To his relief, Draco was sitting in a chair and no longer visibly upset. He really didn't have the strength to go back for another round of cursing with the Blonde Lord. Perhaps later.
Draco looked up from his book. Silver eyes took him in, flickering over him. Without a word Draco was at his side healing him. It was...surreal. He was sure using that word a lot today. It was nothing much really. He'd been hurt worse. Draco though lived in a world where such things could be healed easily and perhaps seeing him walking around like that bothered him. It shouldn't though. Harry said as much.
"You were hurt defending me." Said Draco, quietly. He was careful not to look at Harry while he spoke, focusing on healing him instead. "So I am going to heal you." Either Draco had done his own share of eavesdropping that evening or he knew Harry better than Harry did. He wasn't sure which was the better option. He watched, fascinated, as the Slytherin whirled his wand around and his skin knitted up and bruises faded in response. He tried desperately not to think of the reasons Draco would need to know how to do such things. So they sat on the floor beside one another without speaking.
When he finished Harry leaned against him, suddenly tired. "Huh, you're a half decent pillow."
"There are the painkillers kicking in," Said Draco. "You're losing what little you have of a filter on that mouth. And I'm no one's pillow." The blonde stood to Harry's distress. He really didn't feel like smacking into the ground now staring up at him. To his relief -and, frankly, surprise- a cushion replaced the Slytherin.
Draco sat in the chair he was in when Harry entered, picking up his forgotten book. "Victor won't be here for another hour or so. He'll have to sneak off from parties you know. I suppose it wouldn't be too offensive if you slept for a while until then. As a guest you're proving rather entertaining though Potter, I expect you to remedy that when you've woken."
He grinned into his cushion. "Whatever you say, Dray." He stifled a laugh when he heard Draco splutter. He would definitely be coming up with nicknames for him. Half a minute later as he was trying not to fall asleep just yet Draco started speaking again.
"Why did you do it?"
"Hmm?" Harry managed. His mind was starting to get fuzzy. Draco was rolling his eyes. Harry couldn't see it from this angle but he knew it just the same. Poor Slytherins dealing with ridiculous Gryffindors he taunted mentally. He'd wonder later why his inner voice sounded like Snape in that moment.
"Why did you act like an idiot." Draco clarified.
Without thinking, which was becoming a horrible habit for him at this point, Harry answered, "No one hurts my friends. Not even their parents."
"...when did we become friends Harry?" Said Gryffindor sighed, pulling an arm under him and lifting himself enough to see Draco. He sat there in his chair looking between his book and Harry. pretending he didn't care what Harry said maybe? Couldn't Slytherins be human at least some of the time? It was okay to care what other people thought of you, everyone did.
"A few hours ago, remember? I jumped from a balcony and insulted your outfit. It was epic."
Draco snorted in spite of himself. "That's one way to start a friendship I suppose." As opposed to condescendingly offering it after entering a compartment on a train uninvited? He didn't bring it up, though. Draco might not heal him the next time he got his butt kicked and it was a handy skill to have in Harry's life. Admittedly he was perhaps less careful than he ought to be. Trolls. Basilisks. Dark Lords. Werewolves...
"I'm worth it." Harry reassured him. He set his head back down on the cushion.
The blonde turned back to his book. "We'll see." He sounded like he was smiling.
"Hey, Draco." Harry slurred out. He was going to fall asleep soon but he wanted to ask before he forgot.
Draco gave an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh, setting down his book. "Yes, Potter?"
"Who decorated your tent?"
Silver orbs blinked. "It's mine. Usually, we'd be in father's but his was...allocated elsewhere. Why do you ask?"
Harry yawned. "I like it." He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
- 2
- 3
- 4
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

Friend or Foe