What If (Drarry)

6. Between Two Fires

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.