What If

Draco stayed beside Harry's body. He tried to reach for him. He didn't even care when he stuck his arm in the shield to grab the boy, and the familiar burning flames appeared around his body. He didn't even feel them.

But however desperately he tried to get Harry out of the strange, burning membrane, and however desperately he wanted to believe that the boy was still alive, he could do nothing.

After a while Harry's body started to fade, until he completely disappeared. The shield swallowed him. Draco watched as the small body faded and faded, and when it was almost invisible, disappeared in the shield. He could only hope that the boy got to a nice place in the afterlife, and not straight into the Death Eaters' arms.

Draco felt miserable. He heard the Death Eaters' shouts and screams from the other side of the shield - they surely saw the flames - but didn't care. He didn't even care if they found him.

Just find me. Kill me! Even that would be better. I'm a killer, I don't deserve life anymore. Not that I deserved until that. But I'M A FUCKING KILLER! I KILLED HARRY POTTER!

Heavy teardrops spilled from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. When they reached his chin, they stopped, gathered together just to jump into their own suicide one by one right after that. Draco couldn't stop crying. Neither he wanted. He sat on the ground curled up under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, smelled in his scent, and didn't move for a couple of hours.

When he realized that it started to get dark - he didn't know how many days had passed - he decided to go back... home.

Home. Was he really going to go back home?

What is home, actually? He stayed too much time with the Death Eaters, and spent way too much time with Harry to just go back where he came from. He felt he wouldn't even have been able to enjoy his life anymore. He wouldn't have been able to feel himself home anymore. Not without Harry. Not with the thought that he was the one responsible for the boy's death. He felt miserable.

Finally, when the night sky was already pitch dark, he gathered himself and Disapparated. First he didn't know where to go. The only thing he knew: not to home. Not yet.

Since he didn't know where Harry had lived, he couldn't go to his house either. So he thought. And then remembered how exactly he'd got into this whole thing. The Weasels and Granger!

They'll definitely kill me if I tell them. Maybe I deserve it. But I can't do it. I can't just Apparate on their treshold in the middle of the night and say 'Hi, I've just killed your best friend. But I'm here!'. No, that would be the worst idea ever. And besides, I wouldn't even be able to look them in the eye. I wouldn't be able to tell them.

So Draco Apparated to the only other place he knew, and was sure he will get the worst punishment he deserves.

The cold stone floor of the Atrium hit him hard. For a moment he couldn't move. Just sat there in the dark and let the pain go away. Then stood up. He knew there must've been a night-shift receptionist - or sort of - who stands guard at night. So he looked around.

Soon enough he spotted the small cubicle in the corner, in which a quite old wizard sat, trying to solve an even older-than-him crossword, illuminated by dim wand light.

Draco pulled off the Cloak and slowly stepped towards the man. He was so deeply buried in his crossword, that only got aware of Draco's presence, when the blond boy arrived in front of his cubicle. The man looked up at him questioningly, as if he didn't believe completely that there was really standing a man.

"Er." Draco started, his voice a bit hoarse, while clutching the cubicle's edge for comfort.

"So you really aren't a ghost."

"What? No! No, I... I came here to... to make a prosecution."

"A prosecution. What's the crime?"

"Murder."

The man's eyes widened as he reached for a piece of parchment to scribble down the information Draco was about to tell him. "The victim?"

Draco hesitated a bit. "Harry James Potter."

At this point, the old man's indifference was completely replaced with pure curiosity and excitement. Clearly he never even dared to dream about that he would ever have to do anything with such a juicy event.

"Go on." he said. "Date, place, circumstances?"

"Er. I don't know."

"What? Then how do you know about the murder? Haven't you seen it?"

"I... I have, yes. But I don't know when. And where. It was a huge clearing. I-" Draco started sobbing violently. "I don't know, sir!"

The man sighed suspiciously. Maybe this was nothing. Just a young man decided to have fun. "Then who is the murdurer? Did you see them?"

"Yes." Draco said firmly, however his whole body was shaking.

"Then?"

"What? Oh yes! It was... It was Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"The Death Eater?"

"The ex-Dea... Yes."

"Hmm. Interesting." murmured the old wizard and scribbled down Draco's name on the parchment.

Draco fidgeted nervously with Harry's Invisibility Cloak in his hands while waiting for the man to finish writing all the little pieces of information Draco gave him.

"Alright. I'll send it up. Tomorrow the Aurors will start the investigation. You'll be summoned to make an official prosecution."

Draco nodded, his mouth dry.

"Your name?" the man asked finally.

Draco just stared.

"Sir! What is your name? We need it, so we can summon you later."

"It's... It is Draco Lucius Malfoy."

The old man's expression turned from excited to astonished to annoyed. But what he was about to say, Draco never got to know, because then...

"Malfoy? Is that you?"

Granger. What the hell is she doing here this late?

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley! This man came here and... Well, he's a hooligan. He tried to sabotage the Ministry's work!" there was no more other legible words in what the old wizard said, apart from "Harry Potter" and "murder" or "intruder".

"Malfoy! You came back! We thought-"

She hurried towards him, almost hugged him, but Draco stopped her. She didn't know who she was talking to.

"Granger."

"Come on! You have to tell us everything. I bring you home. Oh Merlin, you look terrible. I'll definitely bring you home. You need to rest. And tell us everything. Ron and Ginny-"

"No!"

"No? What no?"

"Ask him!" Draco indicated the old man in the cubicle with his head. "Everything's true I told him."

"What are you talknig about? What did he say, Mr Johnson?"

Both Draco and Hermione looked at the confused man expextantly. He didn't know what to say. He definitely didn't believe that this young man killed Harry Potter. Especially not after he saw that Mrs. Granger-Weasley knew this man. Maybe they didn't seem to be the best of friends, but they were definitely on good terms. So how would it be possible that this man was a murderer who killed the Saviour of the Wizarding World? But then why would he be so determined to make everyone - even the soon-to-be Minister for Magic - believe that he killed the man? It was so confusing.

"He said... No. I think, Mrs. Granger-Weasly, this young man... Well, I think he needs to see a Healer. His mind-"

"No, you fool man! I wasn't lying! Believe me!"

"Malfoy! Calm down and tell me! What did you say to Mr Johnson? What happened? Is Harry alright?"

And that was the point where Draco broke down. He collapsed on the floor and started crying vehemently. He tried to say something, but only incomprehensible mumbles left his lips. Hermione was astonished. She'd never seen Malfoy crying. Therefore she knew, something terrible had happened.

She grabbed the crying blond, and Disapparated with him.

***

Ron was already asleep, but the loud noises that came from Malfoy, wake him immediately.

"Hermione? Is that you?"

"Ron! Come here! Malfoy came back!"

"And you brought him into our house? Are you-"

"Not now, Ron! Something terrible happened, he's crying!"

Ron stared at Malfoy, who was still shaking, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Bloody hell! Malfoy, you look terrible!"

"Thank you, Weasley."

"Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked suddenly. "Would you please tell us what happened?"

Draco looked deeply in her eyes. He had no choice. He had to tell them. And let them kill him then.

He nodded weakly. But before he could open his moith, the happily crackling fire in the fireplace became green and a very worried Ginny Weasley appeared in it.

"Hermione! Ron! What happened? I came as quickly as I could... Oh. Malfoy. You came back...? You look terrible."

Draco felt nauseus. Now all three of them-

Hermione waved Ginny to sit down with them on the couch, then looked at Draco a strange expression on her face. Concern? Sadness? Maybe fear? Fear of what she would hear or fear of me?

"Malfoy. We were really worried. When you stepped in the shield and those flames around you... What happened?"

Draco couldn't do this. He couldn't tell them. But especially couldn't talk about such things that what happened to him, while he... he killed Harry Potter.

"I appreciate you're trying, Granger, but there's no need to do it. I... I don't need it. Don't deserve it."

"No! What are you talking about? We really were worried! Please tell us what happened!"

"You'll hate me. Even more than you hated me at school."

All three of them looked at Draco puzzled.

"I know I have to tell you. But before... before you kill me, I have to give you something. I think it's more yours than mine."

With that Draco gripped the Cloak that was lying neatly on his lap, hoisted it to his nose, smelled Harry's scent in for a last time, then gave it to Ron.

Ron stared at the familiar Cloak, a horrid suspicion's shadow growing in his eyes. Draco couldn't look at him any longer. He sighed, drew his wand from one of his pockets and - to everyone's astonishment - placed it on the table in front of them.

"I won't defend myself." he said.

"Malfoy... Please, just say something. You scare us!"

"I killed Harry."

"..."

"I KILLED HARRY POTTER! HE'S DEAD! HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME!!"