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Phoenix\'s and Fate	By : xXMissGuidedAngelXx Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2369 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, or any of the characters related, all characters are trademarked, and therefore belong to J.K Rowling, and I am making no profit from this.

Chapter List
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This is my first fic on this site, though it can also be found on fanfiction.net under a name similar to this one, and on tumblr at mischiefmanipulated.tumblr.com Other than that, read review, and enjoy.

Phoenix's and Fate:

An Unexpected Visitor.

Draco sighed as he rolled up his sleeves, it had been a bad summer for drought, and his garden was suffering because of it. It had been two years since he’d left Great Britain, and since settling down in the small town of Summerside, Nova Scotia he’d found himself working as a Potions maker for the local wizarding community. Of course it was nothing compared to the large community he was used to back home… but he supposed that was why he preferred it. He could walk freely through the town without feeling the judging gazes of every witch and wizard that he passed. It was a nice feeling, one that he knew that he could never experience back in the UK, and one that made him pleased that he had chosen to start over from scratch. He picked up his wand from the ground, muttering a simple watering charm as he attempted to revive his dying ingredients. He’d grown accustomed to using such spells, and since he’d always excelled at potions while at school, his chosen ‘profession’ was more than suiting. There was also the fact that he was once again in possession of his original wand, the wand that felt like a true extension of his very being. As he tended to his garden he couldn’t help but remember how he got his wand back, and what had persuaded him to finally leave his home.

The weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts had been a flurry of court trials and surprising witness statements that had left Draco astonished at how many people were willing to stand up for him. Of course there had been those he expected, that pompous fool Slughorn, and even a few of his other professors. His close friend Blaise had even taken the stand and stood up for him like a true friend. While Gregory had yet to speak since the events that had taken place in the Room of Requirements. Then there had been his mother, explaining about how his father’s loyalty to the Dark Lord had not only placed his family in danger, but had forced Draco to make decisions in order to keep his family alive as well. It had rung true to Draco, and it had jarred him to see his mother, who was the strongest woman that he knew, break down and cry on the stand. She’d further explained about how he’d lost his childhood because of his father’s idiotic decisions, and that while she and his father were worthy of the prison sentence they had hanging over their heads, that Draco did not.

The last two witnesses though… they had been the ones to affect Draco the most.

First to come forth had been Arthur Weasley, he’d started off talking about the mistakes of Draco’s father, and Draco’s actions during school, including his actions against Potter’s girlfriend during second year, and all that he had done during sixth year… At first Draco had been assured that his ship was sunk, but then the Senior Weasel had proven him wrong by stating that he didn’t believe that Draco should be blamed for the acts of his father. That as a child Draco’s actions had been guided by his need to please his father, and later on, to keep his family safe. He’d gone on to say that despite all that Draco had done, that there had been enough children lost during Voldemort’s time, and that sentencing Draco would be just one more child lost because of his actions. This statement had rung true to Draco, as he remembered all those that had been lost during the final battle, his dreaded aunt, his cousin he’d never known and her husband… but it had been the deaths of those closer to his age that had affected him the most. The death of one of the troublemaking weasel twins, and of course the other Gryffindors that had been loyal to Potter, but it was the death of Crabbe that still haunted him.

While it was true that he’d always looked down on Vincent and Gregory, seeing them more as lackeys than true friends, their undying loyalty to him had been admirable, and it had been in his last two years at school that he had truly seen them as friends. In fact, aside from Blaise they had been the only two that he had ever truly considered as friends… He also could never shake Crabbe’s death from his mind, and he often found himself waking up in a cold sweat, a scream bursting from him as the flames haunted his dreams, and the strangely calming scent of Potter drew him from the flame. Often he wasn’t sure what frightened him more, that the fiendfyre had been chasing him, or that Potters scent and presence had been so calming, both in the dreams and during the true event. He chose not to focus on that though, there were more pressing matters at hand, such as his fate at the hands of the Wizengamot.

After all of this it had been Potter that had come forward, and he’d explained about how Draco had failed to identify him at the manner, despite the look of recognition in his eyes. He’d explained about how it had been Dumbledore who had believed that Draco was not yet lost, and how he shared that belief. The court had turned to Draco at this point, and asked him why he hadn’t given Harry up. Under the effects of Veritaserum he’d reluctantly admitted, “Because I wanted him to win. I didn’t want to continue watching my mother cry herself to sleep, or my cowardly father to continue snivelling to The Dark… Voldemort. I didn’t give him up because I wanted Voldemort out of my family’s life for good… and as far as I was concerned he was the only one strong enough to do so.” He hadn’t been able to face Harry after this confession; instead he’d simply stared back at the Wizengamont, his usual expression of disinterest in place. His eyes betrayed him though, as they always had, they had showed the Wizengamont his fear, and sheer exhaustion of the past seven years. The result of the trial had been heart-breaking for Draco, but purely understanding. His father was sentenced to life in Azkaban prison, while his mother was sentenced to ten years for her actions, her sentence had been lightened by Potter testimony of how she had concealed his survival in the Forbidden Forest.

After the trial Draco had been informed of one final change, how a great portion of his families fortune would be split between the families affected by the war. There would still be a reasonable amount left behind for he and his mother, once she was released from Azkaban, but they would no longer be the wealthy family that they once were. As he had been preparing to leave the ministry at last he was met with one final surprise when Harry approached him. At first he’d reacted to him as he once would have in school, his trademark sneer in place as he seethed out “Potter”

Harry had frowned to this, actually shuffling on the spot like some awkward teen before he’d taken Draco’s wand from his pocket. “I should have given this back to you some time ago Malf- Draco. I also wanted to uh, say thanks for what you did back at the manor… and to say I’m sorry.”

Draco had glared at him for a moment before giving him a confused look, “Why the bloody hell are you apologizing? If anyone should be apologizing it should be me Potter. After all, I was the one causing you all that grief at school while… he was trying to kill you.” His gaze had drifted from Harry to his wand, to the ground, unable to face the young man that he had once been so focused on hating, all for the mundane purpose of pleasing his father.

Harry shook his head to this, “I shouldn’t have been so judgemental of you in first year… perhaps had I accepted your friendship…”

“Then my father would have found a way to manipulate any friendship formed between us. You shouldn’t dwell on the past Potter… it’ll do you no good. Either way, even though I don’t understand why you’re apologizing, I suppose I accept it… Also I would like to thank you for standing up for me in the courtroom. You didn’t have to do that…. Especially with how I treated you.” He added while giving a small shrug, he was slightly surprised at how simple the act of talking to Harry was. After seven years of acting as his adversary, it was pleasant relief to be able to push such childish hatred aside for a moment of civility.

Harry nodded to this, unconsciously rolling Draco’s wand between his fingers as he said, “I meant what I said on the stand, Dumbledore was right when he said you weren’t lost. I saw you on the Astronomy tower that night… As far as I’m concerned, you were forced into a bad circumstance, and you had no choice but to make the best of a bad situation, I’m sure I would have done the same had I been in your shoes.” He then glanced to the wand in his hand and looked up, it seemed as if he was going to say something, only to pause as he heard Ginny calling out to him.

Draco cast a glance to the young weaselette before looking back to Harry, and the wand he was holding out to him. He took it back, a strange chill going down his spine as his fingers brushed against Harry’s skin. He nodded to Harry once more as he said, “Thank you Potter, and I suppose you’re right…. Either way, I’ll leave you be.” He said as he turned to leave, only to pause as he heard Harry say, “Draco, wait.”

He turned to Harry with a questioning look, only to notice Harry with an outstretched hand. He stared at the hand for a moment before catching the meaning. He hesitated for a moment before accepting the hand, giving it a brief shake as he said, “Thank you… Harry. Now, I believe I should leave, before the Prophet’s vultures decide to attack.” He said as he withdrew his hand, the chill returning as the warmth of Harry’s palm left his own.

After that he’d left, returning home to the manor, only to realize that he couldn’t sleep under the roof where Voldemort had haunted the halls. He’d spent restless nights in his room, his rare moments of sleep shattered by frightening dreams of the past. After a week under the roof he’d chosen to make a change, after a brief visit with his mother he’d expressed his desire to leave the United Kingdom, and to have the chance to start life over somewhere where the Malfoy last name would be less well known, and where he could live without people judging him for not only his own actions, but the actions of his father as well. She had been the one to suggest Canada, explaining that her mother had actually come from the maritimes. So, he had taken this suggestion to heart, clearing his money from the family vault at Gringotts, along with a few select items from the manor. He’d then left for Nova Scotia, buying a nice small cottage in the countryside and making a home for himself. He’d even found a small part-time position at the local wizarding school, a small school set-up for the local witches and wizards children. He taught the older students about potion making, and it was a quiet relaxing position, one that he was sure that his God-father Severus would have been proud of.

In the two years since his move he had not forgotten about his rare moment with Harry, he’d often found himself thinking about his former rival, wondering what their lives might have been like had Voldemort not been there to interfere. He preferred to believe that they would have been friends, that without Voldemort to ruin their lives a true friendship would have budded between them.

When he wasn’t thinking about Harry though, he was living a peacefully normal life, tending to his garden, and teaching three times a week. He had even made a few friends in the nearby town, connecting with a few of the teachers, and with most of the witches and wizards that came to him for potions brewing.

Most of the time the potions he brewed were for simple aches and pains, on the rare occasion he’d been asked for a more complicated potion, but it was still a simple and pleasantly peaceful life. As he finished up tending to his garden he stood up, stretching a bit as he looked over his garden. He paused for a brief moment to chuckle as he watched Orion, his pet cat, bolt after a gnome that had been hiding amidst his vegetables. He shook his head at his furred companion before turning and making his way into the house. He tucked his wand into its usual place at the back of his denims as he made his way into the kitchen, opening up the fridge and taking out a pitcher of Iced Tea. He barely had a chance to pour a glass before he heard a knock at his door. He looked up with a confused glance, not expecting company on a Sunday of all days. He replaced his pitcher to the fridge before making his way to the door, a hand resting on the wand behind him as he opened the door.

He stared out at the man on his porch in shock, the hand behind his back falling to rest by his side as he instinctively said, “Potter? What the bloody hell are you doing in Summerside?”
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Phoenix\'s and Fate