What If

Draco didn't wait for Macnair to catch up with him. He ran up the stairs, didn't stop until he reached his room. Snapped the door behind him, and collapsed on his bed letting angry tears spill from his eyes.

"What did I do?" he whispered.

He nauseated of himself. But he knew, he hadn't had any choice. If he hadn't had done it, the Death Eaters would never have trusted him, and he wouldn't have been able to get Potter out of there...

"Draco" the door opened revealing Lucius Malfoy in the doorframe.

Draco sit up bolt upright.

"Y... Yes, father?"

"Macnair said you've done it."

"Yes, father."

"Hm. Very well."

Draco saw a light smile in the corner of his father's lips. He started to be hopeful. But then-

"He also told me that you ran away."

"..."

"I see. You care about the Potter boy. You lied to us."

"No! Father, I didn't! I... I swear. I just. I think I-"

"Yes?"

"I don't know. Maybe I messed up something. When... When I cast the spell, I think something went wrong, because I also felt something... bad. My memories-" Draco lied, hoping that his father doesn't see right through him.

"I see" he said in a slightly malicious, mysterious voice. "Then you should practise a bit more. From now on, you are in charge to keep Potter in his worst state of mind. And I will know if you don't obey."

With that Lucius rushed out of his son's room, leaving a totally devastated Draco behind him.

"I can't do it!" he whimpered to himself.

After floundering on his bed, suffering from his own thoughts, he decided to go back to Potter. He had to see the boy if he was alright, and he had to apologise to him.

He drew a deep breath and got up. A couple of Death Eaters still wandered the corridors, so he had to be extremly careful. He got almost caught twice until he reached the dungeons. He rushed to the painting, and pressed his Mark to it without thinking. Now he hardly felt the flames licking his body nor the burning pain in his veins. The painting swung open, and he stepped in slightly panting.

He had to close the door immediately, because as he stepped in, Potter shrieked.

"Hey, Potter, it's me! Keep calm!"

"Malfoy?" he asked terrified. "What are you doing here? I believed you! I thought you might have really changed. But now I know you didn't. Get out of here."

"No." he said firmly, though Potter's sobbing and terrified voice startled him to no end.

"Please! Get out! Don't do that to me! Not again. No! Nooo!"

"Shhh." Draco crouched down beside the dark figure he guessed was Harry, and placed a shaking palm on the boy's shoulder. "I won't do anything to you. I wanted to apologise. I didn't want to hurt you. But I had no choice. I wasn't lying when I told you that I want to rescue you. But to be able to get both of us out of here, I had to tell them I was on their side."

"I don't believe you, Malfoy. I don't know what do you want from me, but I'm sure, I don't believe a word of what you've just said. Now get out of here."

"But-"

"GET OUT!"

Draco hesitated for a moment, but even in the darkness, he could feel Potter's burning gaze on him. So he stood up and left. He didn't even had the choice to warn the boy that from that night he was in charge to cast the Dementor Curse on him.

He was in such a bad mood that he didn't even care if somebody saw him. But luckily nobody did.

He reached his room, lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. But the more desperately he wanted to find a solution, the more complicated it seemed.

He knew he had to act as if he was totally indifferent about Potter to convince his father. But somehow he had to convince Potter, too, that he actually was on his side. It seemed to be impossible.

But in point of fact, why did he care about what Potter was thinking about him? Why did he care about the boy at all?

He wasn't sure in the answer. But he knew he wanted to be on the good end with Potter. He wanted to get back the boy with whom he could talk. He wanted to give him hope, fuck, he wanted to make those green eyes twinkling and glistening again...

***

Another week had passed, which meant that Draco had to go down to Potter again. But now his father announced that he would go on his own. The past few occassions Macnair had escorted him to make sure that he did as he had to. Draco gathered every bit of his willpower. He cast the curse on the gradually weakening Potter every other day despite his revulsion, and showed no (visible) sign of sorry to prove Macnair that he belonged to them.

Macnair forwarded the information to Lucius, who seemed to be quite satisfied with his son. He even let him have dinner with them - which until that point, had been forbidden to him.

Maybe that's why he decided to let Draco do his business now on his own.

Draco only had been waiting for this. When the night fell, he pocketed a candle and a sandwitch he'd successfully stole from dinner, and headed to the dungeons.

When Macnair had escorted him, it was always the Death Eater who opened the entrance. Draco had almost forgotten how painful was it for him to enter the prison.

He literally fell into the dark room, and couldn't move for seconds before he could stand up again and close the door behind him.

Potter didn't say a word. Draco lit the candle with his wand and placed it next to the other boy.

"Hey!" he said softly. "Potter! Are you alright?"

Before he actually spoke up, he let out a weak groan. "Just do the curse and leave."

"No. I didn't come to hurt you."

Potter snorted.

"Please, Potter... Harry. Listen to me!"

The boy didn't respond. Draco took it as a sign to continue.

"Finally I gathered a bit trust from the Death Eaters. Now they let me come to you alone. I won't hurt you. I don't want to. And just to know... I didn't want to, either. They were making me to do so, and I didn't have a choice... But I don't want to apologize, I know you wouldn't listen to me. I just want to say that I'm sorry and that I'm going to fix everything. I promise."

Potter... Harry? turned to face Draco. For a moment the two boys locked eyes with each other.

"You've already told me once that you're gonna help me. And right after that you cursed me. Why would I believe you?"

"I know. You really have the right not to trust me, but please, Harry, please believe me."

"I..."

"How can I prove you..."

The boys fell into heavy silence. While Harry tried to decide whether he should trust Draco or not, the blond boy was thinking hard about how he could convince Harry to believe him.

"I won't cast the curse on you." he said finally.

"What?"

"I won't do it again. Ever. I won't make you relive those horrible things. But if they come to check you - and I'm sure they will - you have to act.

Harry looked at him intently before nodding.

"Fine." he said.

Draco's face lit up with relief.

"I brought you something." he smiled then, giving Harry the sandwitch. "I stole it for you directly from the Great Hall."

"The Great Hall?"

"Yes. Couldn't you see it when they brought you in? They enchanted this fortress to look exactly like Hogwarts. I think Hogwarts is the Death Eaters' kink."

Harry smiled slightly, almost invisibly, but somehow Draco could caught him. The blond boy felt something warm spreading his body. He smiled!

"Then where are we now?"

"You won't like it. At all. But it's our Common Room."

"You mean the Slytherins'?"

"Yeah."

Harry's face twisted but he didn't say anything. He shoved the last bite of the sandwitch in his mouth and lay back on the ground. He looked healthier after eating properly, though he was still very weak.

Draco stood up. "I have to go now."

Harry nodded.

"I left the candle here. See you in a couple of days, I assume."

Draco reached for the back of the painting when he heard a weak voice.

"Mal... Draco! Thank you."

***

Two days later Draco was heading to the dungeons again. Despite the fact that he was trapped in an invisible fortress with his cruel father and a bunch of Death Eaters, he felt rather happy. After all he was about to have a conversation. Living with Death Eaters who still didn't entirely trusted him made him crave for a proper chat more than anything else.

Right? He was happy to have somebody to talk to. Nothing to do with Potter. Not at all.

He rolled up his sleeve and pressed his Mark against the painting. It wasn't making any good for him to press his arm to the picture in every other day.

The scratches around the Mark seemed to rip open again, the burning flames danced around his body. When it finally stopped, he almost didn't have enough energy to step into the room.

He collapsed immediately after he closed the door behind him. The room was completly dark again.

"Draco?"

"Yes. Are you okay?"

"I guess. But are you okay? Why are you always come in like this?"

"Nevermind. Do you have the candle?"

"It's here. I had to blow it because the Death Eaters came and I didn't want them to find it. Anyway, I think they really believed you'd cast the curse on me."

"Mhmm" Draco whimpered in pain.

"Are you okay? What happened to you?"

"I can't... I can't come here that often. I couldn't bear. My... my Mark-"

——————warning——————

He didn't know why, but he felt he had to tell it to somebody. He had to let it out. And he trusted Harry. He trusted him, didn't he?

He lit the candle Harry'd shoved to him, then rolled up his sleeve again and thrusted his arm in the light.

Harry slowly looked down from his pained face to his forearm and gasped.

"What the...?"

"After the war, when you saved me and my mother from Azkaban, everybody treated us as if we were garbage. They were disgusted. The shopkeepers didn't serve us in the shops. We couldn't go along a street without getting hundreds of nasty and malignant looks. I always hated myself because of the decisions I made. But the constant guilt I felt, the nightmares I had at night and the people's behaviors to us was too much. One day, when my mother went on a walk in the gardens, I... I tried some spells on myself, but neither of them worked. I was still alive and well. I almost tried to Avada Kedavra myself, but then I thought, I don't deserve such a painless and fast death. Eventually it turned out that I was a coward to even kill myself. But I didn't give up. I still wanted to cut my past out of my life."

Draco sobbed then suddenly started to cry vehemently.

"So you tried to cut it out." Harry understood, and as the realization hit him he looked at Draco terrified.

"But it didn't work! Harry, it can't be cut out! I have to wear it forever! Three razors and a knife... All of them burnt when they touched it-"

"Shh." Harry put a hand on him.

"I..." Draco cried.

"Don't! Don't speak. Don't think about it now."

—————warning end—————

"But I can't think about anything else! It made my life a hell. And because of it, I made others' life a hell! I deserve those looks, I'd deserved to be sent to Azkaban."

"No, you wouldn't. Why do you think I save you at the trial?"

"Well... I don't know."

"Because I knew, and still know, that you're innocent. You didn't choose to get the Mark. And yes, even if you were on the wrong side of the war, you never really belonged to them. How many people have you killed?"

"I... zero. But I hurt a lot."

"Draco. This is a war we are talking about. Everybody hurt a lot of people. You are not evil. Maybe I hated you, back at school, but the night Dumbledore had died... I realized that you were the puppet of the dark side, just as I was the light side's. I was at the Astronomy Tower that night. I saw you."

"You did?"

"Yes. And what I saw was a boy who had no choice. Who - despite the war around him - was fighting with himself."

Draco hiccoughed. He felt rather embarrassed; he never cried in front of other people. Especially not Harry Potter. Yet he was so kind. His voice was soothing, his words soft and reassurring. Draco would never thought.

He felt relived after spilling his deepest secret, and hearing Harry's words. The boy still gripped his shoulder firmly, unintentionally drawing little soothing circles with his thumb.

Draco felt that he never wanted to cease this contact ever. He never wanted to move again. He leand in Harry's touch and-

Wait! What? What was he doing? What was he thinking about?

He jumped to his feet abruptly.

"I... I have to... Er. I've got to go. Yes." he stuttered.

Harry looked at him puzzled. "Are you alright? Did I do anything? I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"No, no! I just. I've just got to go now that's all."

And with that Draco rushed to the back of the portrait. But before he could reach it, Harry called after him.

"Draco!"

"Er... yes?"

"I have an Invisibility Cloak. The Death Eaters took it from me when they dragged me here. But if you could find it, you could... You know. You wouldn't have to be afraid of beeing caught. If you know what I mean." he stuttered.

"Oh. Yes. Well, thank you. Good night, then."

"G'night!"