The Mind Of a Fangirl // One-shots

For Enemies // Harry Potter

Fandom: Harry Potter
Ship: Drarry (kinda, I guess) / mentions of Hinny

The one where Harry and Draco only saw each other once again.

"Mr. Potter? Please follow me."

Harry nodded slowly when he got up from his seat and followed the guard towards the cell block.

He was not sure why he was here, why he had decided to visit him. They were enemies, they hated each other, Harry had almost killed him years ago, but he had felt the need to pay him a visit for the last few months.

He had to go. He had to see him.

He tried to ignore the cries for help and the pained moans that filled the halls of Azkaban, the cold atmosphere, the cloud of darkness around him. Even all those years after the dementors had left the prison, their presence could still be felt.

No wonder people went crazy in here.

The guard stopped in front of the last cell of the block, motioning for Harry to come closer before opening the door. "Malfoy! You have a visitor."

With one last hesitating look at the guard, Harry entered the cel, slowly walking towards the pale, worn-out figure sitting on the bed.

Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," He whispered when Harry sat down next to him. "If it isn't the boy who lived." His blond hair was greasy, his skin was sallow. He looked awful, and if his voice hadn't been the same, Harry wouldn't have recognized him.

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall.

"I don't know."

"You thought it would be interesting to come here and laugh at your former nemesis, laugh of what has become of me?" Malfoy's words were harsh, but his voice was soft, tired.

"No," Harry answered, struggling to find the words, "I - I don't know why. I just -"

"I've been in here for five years, Potter, I don't need your sympathy right now. Or ever."

"I'm sorry," Harry said slowly, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door of the cell. 

"So am I."

"Why?" Harry asked, a little confused. He turned around to face Malfoy again, who had opened his eyes again and looked at Harry like he was seeing him for the first time.

"Everything. I made your life miserable because I was jealous."

"Oh. That." Harry shrugged and sighed. "No hard feelings. It was years ago."

Malfoy nodded, his face hidden in the shadows, his voice soft. "It was, but still. Sorry."

"Apologies accepted."

"You should go, Potter. Your wife is probably waiting for you."

"How -"

"Wedding ring," Malfoy answered dryly, looking straight at Harry for a few seconds before averting his eyes. "Thank you."

"For what?"

Malfoy didn't answer him, and before Harry could ask him again, the door opened.

"Time's up, Mr. Potter."

Before following the guard outside, Harry looked at Malfoy for a few seconds. "Goodbye, Malfoy."

"Goodbye, Harry."

That was the first time Draco Malfoy ever called him by his first name.

***

It had been years since Harry had last seen Draco Malfoy, and almost as long since he had last thought about him. It was almost Christmas, and he was shopping for the last few presents he and Ginny needed, when he heard someone mention the name he hadn't thought he would ever hear again.

"Draco Malfoy has killed himself."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the two men, who were standing next to the entrance of Gringotts. One of them was reading a newspaper; the other was trying to read it over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help to hear some of your conversation, and -"

"You're Harry Potter!" One of the men said, looking up from the other man's newspaper and studying Harry's face.

"Well, yes, I -"

"Dick, it's really him!"

The other man looked up as well and nodded. "Yes, it's him. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, for my friend right here. What was it you were trying to ask?"

Harry hesitated for a second. "You were - you were saying something about Draco Malfoy."

"Yes, the Death Eater. Has been rotting away in Azkaban for the last twelve years, and now he has killed himself."

"But - how?" Harry stuttered, trying to process the information.

"Apparently he stole a wand from a guard and cut his wrists using some sort of spell. I have to admit, it is actually quite clever," Dick answered. He shook his head and muttered something about Death Eaters that Harry, frankly, didn't catch because he quickly thanked the man and walked away.

Draco Malfoy had killed himself.

***

He only needed to contact two people before he was allowed to see Draco Malfoy one last time. Fame wasn't everything, but Harry had to admit that it could come in pretty handy sometimes.

When he entered the room where his former arch enemy was laid out, his hands were shaking, and when he spotted the lifeless body of Draco Malfoy, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Malfoy looked pale, thin, and about ten times worse than he had done the last time Harry had seen him. The years had had their effect, and death didn't suit him.

He walked over to the body and looked at it, fighting back tears. He might have hated the bloke when they were young, but seeing him like this hurt. A lot.

"He left a note, sir."

Harry looked up and nodded at the nurse who was standing next to the door, guarding him, guarding the body. "Where is it?"

The nurse pointed towards the table next to him, and Harry picked up the note, stained with blood.

I'm sorry.

Somehow, Harry knew it was meant for him.

I was jealous because I could never have you.

A tear fell, mixing with the blood and the ink when he continued reading.

I have always loved you.

He stared into nothingness for a few seconds, fighting back sobs.

You were never my real enemy.

Putting down the note, Harry lifted up Malfoy's right hand and examined his wrist closely, tracing the cuts with his fingers, immediately recognizing the spell that had inflicted them.

Sectumsempra.

For enemies.