What If

Draco was lucky. The huge door of the Great Hall opened in the exact moment he reached the first floor corridor, which he decided to be far enough from the dungeons to slow his steps.

His mind was still racing, though. He remembered the first time he got into the 'Common Room' and saw Potter in such a horrible state. But he thought this time he would look better. The fact that he didn't, only fueled Draco's exasperation.

First of all he wanted to get the hell out of there. But he couldn't. Because what would've been the point to run away alone? He would still be trapped between the two sides, maybe the Death Eaters would want to kill him more desperately. So he had to bring Potter with him. But how? And when? Potter couldn't even stood on his two feet, not to mention, the boy still didn't trust Draco at all.

"He still hates me with all of his heart." he thought. "But I, too, hate him, don't I?"

***

Draco couldn't go down to Potter for two days. His father or one of the Death Eaters was always at his heels. They didn't trust him.

Most of the times he had to accomplish the Death Eaters' orders or clean the rooms. When he had a bit of a freetime he wandered through the corridors as if he'd been to Hogwarts again, thinking about Potter. The more he evasdroped, the more he found out about the boy.

He came to know that there was a prophecy about him and Voldemort, and that the potion - of which recipe the Death Eaters were trying to find desperately - was already used by the Dark Lord when he revived almost ten years ago.

Draco couldn't stop feeling guilty, because he always insulted Potter because he was spoilt and exhibitionist, however - it turned out - he'd really had a hard life.

Draco thought about the prophecy. The Death Eaters hadn't said much about it, so he didn't exactly know what was it about. But he didn't have to be too smart to knew for sure, that growing up in the fate of being the Dark Lord's main target, couldn't be easy at all. He almost started to feel pity for the boy. Almost.

But it was Harry Potter who he was thinking about! The Harry Potter who insulted him, who made his life a living hell both at school and after school.

And here he was again. Why did Potter save him? And why did he felt grateful to the prat? What happened to him? Yes, after the war he decided to go against the dark side. Maybe already during the war he wasn't entirely loyal to the Dark Lord. But he never intended to be loyal to Harry Potter either. Not to mention to feel anything for him apart from hatred.

Draco sighed heavily. His head was aching for not being able to find answers to these questions. And the more he tried to ignore his own thoughts, the worse this headache became.

He decided to visit Potter again. He knew it would be much more risky then his previous visit - considering that there were no Death Eater meetings in sight - but he needed to go down. He needed answers. And he needed to know if it really was true what he heard from his father about the boy. But mostly he needed somebody, anyone, to talk to.

So he waited until the night fell and all the Death Eaters quieted. He already dreaded the pain he was to stand in order to get in Potter's prison when he arrived at the corridor leading to the 'Common Room'.

But he had to get in! He reluctantly rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and pressed his Mark to the painting. This time he could hardly resist the pain. The scratches around his Mark felt like ripping open again, shooting white hot pain all over his body. He stepped in the darkness and collapsed on the floor immediately.

"Malfoy?" he heard a hoarse voice not so far from him. "Is that you?"

Draco couldn't say a word. His body was still burning with pain, though the flames had disappeared long ago.

"Mmh" he groaned in response.

"What? What happened to you?"

"Nn-" he tried to gain some energy. "No-thing. Nothing." he breathed weakly.

Draco could hear some fumbling, then felt a hand on his knee.

"Where are you? Is that you?" Potter asked poking his knee.

"Yes. Wait."

Draco rummaged in his pocket until he found a candle he'd snuck before from one of the rooms he'd had to clean. He lit the candle with his wand. Suddenly happily shimmering yellow flames illuminated the place. The two boys blinked at each other in shock.

Harry was half lying, half sitting in front of Draco, his face dirty, limbs lying in strange angles. He seemed even more skinny he'd used to be and the usually bright green glistening in his eyes disappeared, and instead a pair of broken, pale green eyes - full of pain - were peering at Draco.

At Draco who still sat at the exact same spot he'd collapsed when he got in. His face looked as if he went through a nasty torturing. His hair was messy, his clothes crumpled. One of his sleeves were rolled up. As he caught Harry looking at his arm, he suddenly clapped his hand on his forearm covering it, so Harry couldn't see anything of it. However he knew exactly what was hiding under the blond boy's palm.

For a mere moment both boys were staring at each other wordlessly. But then Draco broke the silence.

"Well."

"Well."

"You're not looking better."

"What did you think, Malfoy? Despite you, I'm in a prison. Not in a luxury hotel or something like that."

"I didn't say that. I just-"

"You just? Came down to have a laugh at me? To play with me while your daddy's working? Or to-" Harry's voice broke. "To cast that spell on me? Now you're in charge?"

"What? What spell are you talking about? And no! I didn't come to insult you. As I said before, I want to get you out of here. I'm-" Draco winced. "I'm at your side.

Harry snorted. "No, you're not."

"Yes I am."

"Then what are you doing here? Don't say you lied to your father about your loyalty just to save me!"

"Well, but that's exactly what happened! I'm risking my life for you, so don't you dare speak to me like that!"

"And why would you do that, risking your life for me? You're a coward!"

"Yeah, maybe I was. But now I'm here. So give me your hand and let me heal it. The sooner I can heal you, the sooner we can get out of here, and then we won't have to see each other ever."

Harry seemed to think about it. He bit his lower lip, then said "Right. Here, I can't move. But just to make it clear, I still don't trust you."

"Neither I trust you." Draco said but for some strange reason a smile started to creep up on his face.

He carefully touched Harry's right arm with the tip of his wand and murmured a complicated incantation.

"It probably won't make the broken bones joined properly, but it will definitely make the pain go away. Now we have to wait until it's working, so then I can heal your other arm."

Harry didn't look at Draco. He fixed his gaze stubbornly in the opposite direction. Draco sighed.

For a couple of minutes they both stared in opposite directions, but then Draco slowly turned his head back at Harry. He scanned the boy's face. The messy dark brown eyebrows, the smooth skin on his cheeks, the slightly pink mouth dry because of the lack of water, the cute nose-

Wait, what??

"Would you not stare?" Harry asked annoyed, still looking at nothing.

"Sorry."

"What?"

"What?"

"You've just said sorry."

"Yes?"

"You really are on my side."

Draco didn't say anything. Long moments passed while both boys lost deep in their own thoughts.

"Is it true-" Draco started but his voice was too hoarse. "Is it true that there was a prophecy? About you and... him."

"How do you know that?"

"I heard my father talk about it. So is it true?"

Harry sighed and considered his opportunities. He still didn't trust Draco entirely, yet something in his mind kept saying to him that he should. And besides, he desperately wanted to talk to someone, even if that someone was Draco Malfoy. And it would be nice to get his feelings off his chest, wouldn't it?

"Yeah. It's true. I was to kill him or die by his hands. There was no other way. I knew I had to do it, but I never expected that it would require such amount of sacrifice. Those people... They all died for me! They all died because of me!"

Tears started to spill from Harry's eyes, and Draco didn't have any idea what to do. He was startled. Harry Potter, the Savior of the Wizarding World was crying?

"I ruined so many lives!" he continued sobbing.

"No, you didn't! Fuck, Potter, you saved so many lives. All the Muggles' and Mud... I mean Muggleborns' lives. And you saved many of the wizards and witches."

"But how many people died-"

"Potter, there was a war. People always die in wars. It's just... That's how it works. But you can't keep focusing on all the bad that had happened. Think about those who are alive."

Potter didn't stop sobbing. Draco fidgeted then decided to heal the boy's other arm instead.

***

He got back to his room thinking hard about all Potter had told him. The prophecy, the feeling he'd constantly felt... Draco never thought that Potter really cared for other people, let alone blamed himself for their death. He was astonished. He always thought about the boy as The Savior. The boy who - for some reason - was chosen for being famous and loved, and he always thought that Potter liked to be in the spotlight. Now he understood he was wrong. So wrong. And as this realisation hit him, he had to recognize that his feelings towards the boy had entirely and utterly changed.

He never thought about what would it be like to be the savior of the Wizarding World. He always just wanted the fame. He was envious of Potter because everyone liked and supported him, everyone believed in him. But he never thought of the disadvantages of this life. The guilt, the expectations, and not having a choice. Yeah, he knew too well what it's like to be in such a situation. And he can't blame Potter for crying.

Maybe they resembled each other more than he'd ever thought.

***

The next day Lucius summoned Draco.

"I want a word with you."

"Yes, father?"

"You wanted to prove us your loyalty. Now, there's a little task for you."

"I'd do anything to prove my loyalty towards you and the Dark Lord."

Lucius quirked an eybrow, but finally he smiled expectantly at his son.

"I think I do not need to inform you how we keep Potter locked up?"

"He's behind Slytherin's painting. And... Whoever wants to enter, needs to have the Dark Mark."

"Indeed. What you didn't know, is that there is another barrier between Potter and the outside world."

"Is there?"

"Have you ever heard of the Dementor Curse?

"No, I haven't" Draco answered, dreading his father's response.

"This curse has the similar effect on the person on whom it is cast, as Dementors have. It makes the victim being trapped in their own mind, reliving their worst memories. We used this curse on Potter to weaken him, so we can be sure that he won't be able to escape. The only problem is that the curse is only effective for fourty eight hours. That means, we have to recast the spell on every second day. Now, if you really want to prove your loyalty, you earned the honour to do it yourself. Today Macnair will teach you the curse and he will escort you down to Potter. If you succed, you can hope to be forgiven."

"Yes, father."

As Draco left the room to meet Macnair, he gulped nervously. His stomach twisted, not letting him breathe properly.

***

Macnair pressed his Mark to the painting. But it - instead of burning him alive or atleast causing him the slightest bit of pain - simply swung open.

Draco bit on his lower lip as he climbed into the dark room. At Macnair's wand's light he could see Potter's fragile body curled up on the freezing cold stone floor. He shuddered.

The small raven haired boy joisted his gaze. First he almost smiled as he saw Draco standing above him, but then he spotted Macnair.

"Do it!" the Death Eater ordered.

Draco reached for his wand. His hands were shaking so bad. He hardly could aim. He opened his dry mouth to say the incantation, but Potter chose this exact second to look back at him. His eyes were full of disappointment, betrayal, pain and... invocation?

Draco could feel Macnair's gaze burning a hole in his back. For being able to save Potter later, he had to do this. He pointed his wand at the boy and said the incantation.

The effect was immediate. Potter winced in pain then started shouting.

"NO! MOM, DAD! YOU CAN'T- YOU CAN'T KILL THEM-"

He twitched on the floor. After a few seconds, tear started pouring from his eyes.

"NO! TAKE ME INSTEAD! NOOO-"

Draco couldn't resist the urge to leave. He turned around and marched out of the prison, a maliciously smiling Macnair at his heels.