Because I Deserve It - Drarry

Prologue

"Malfoy!"

Draco stopped. The battle was over. He had lost. It was time to go, he needed to get home. The other Death Eaters were ahead and it was every man for himself. He needed to get to the Manor, if only so he could spend a few hours with his parents before their inevitable capture. But that voice, that unfortunately familiar voice, was enough to make him halt.

Because when the savior of the wizarding world called your name, you stopped. Death Eater or not.

He closed his eyes. That familiar feeling of resentment rose in him, making his stomach boil with it. He clenched his hands into fists. It wasn't the voice itself that was detestable. It was quite a nice voice, smooth and rich, like chocolate, and it was the kind of voice that demanded that you listen. If you were in the middle of the Great Hall during dinner, that was the one out of all the other voices that would catch your attention.

It wasn't even the owner of the voice that he hated so much, not anymore. Once maybe, but he had not hated the Golden Boy for a long time now. Yes, he went through the motions, but the resentment and jealousy, yes jealousy, behind them had mysteriously vanished. And besides, any self-respecting Slytherin would do their utmost to ingratiate themself to the most powerful wizard of their generation, and Draco was nothing if not a Slytherin.

In fact, the thing he hated, despised, absolutely detested about the voice was what it made him feel.

Malfoys do not feel. And once it might have been true. Not for Draco, though, not since 4th year, when he realized just how nervous he was for the boy with the messy black hair and green eyes. Especially when that boy had to face a dragon, and when he had nearly drowned in the Black Lake, and when he had come out of that maze screaming about Diggory and the return of the Dark Lord. And now the voice that stirred up those dreaded feelings was saying his name.

He turned slowly, dreading what that voice would say to him now. He opened his eyes, staring into the famous green gaze of one Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived to Make Draco Suffer was watching him intently. All the other Death Eaters, including his mother and father, had already disappeared into the forest behind him, no doubt apparating away as soon as they crossed the apparition wards. He should have been with them. But now, he was going to get caught and thrown into Azkaban, all because he couldn't resist the bloody Chosen Git's call.

"Potter," he said, inclining his head politely. He may as well make a start on that ingratiating business. They stared at each other, the silence between them thick.

"Well? I don't have all bloody day!" Draco finally snapped at him. Potter seemed to come back to himself then and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wand. He handed it to him and finally spoke. "Here. I couldn't have killed him without it, so you have my thanks." Draco looked at him with confusion in his face, before looking down at Potter's wand. His eyes widened. "This is my wand," he said in wonder, before slowly reaching out to take it. Potter looked sheepish. "Yeah. Sorry about that. My wand...broke. And anyways, I wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort with my old wand. So thank you for letting me use it. It was strangely...compliant." Draco chose to ignore that last comment and focused on what he had said before that. "I didn't 'let' you use it. You stole it, you twat. And what do you mean your wand wouldn't have worked? You always fought him with it before, and it seemed to work out well enough for you." Potter's eyes became unfocused, like he was remembering something. "Yes, I did. But he was never able to kill me with his wand, so naturally I couldn't have done the same with mine." Draco was positive he was hiding something. "But why...never mind, I don't need to know. What I do need to know, Potter, is why you have delayed me from getting back to the Manor, where I can spend my last few free hours with my family without a psychotic monster breathing down our necks." Draco drawled.

Potter looked a bit taken aback by that comment. Then he looked at him with a calculating gaze. "You might not get sentenced to Azkaban, Malfoy. Your father might not be able to worm his way out of punishment, but you and your mother...you could probably come up with a defense good enough to keep you out of prison. Isn't that what Malfoys are good at?" Draco blinked, and then he was furious. "Of course you would think that, Oh Mighty Savior, but the rest of the world doesn't think so! They'll want to see us pay and they won't settle for anything less than a life sentence. And I didn't expect you of all people to start defending Death Eaters, when they have killed everyone you've ever loved, including your worthless parents and your good-for-nothing, reckless godfather." He sneered at him. "But I shouldn't be surprised. The Boy Who Won't Die has a hero complex, of course, and you are bloody addicted to it! Well I don't want you to save me, and neither does my mother for that matter. And besides," he said, losing steam and dropping his eyes to the ground, his voice lowering to a whisper. "It's not as if we don't deserve it." Draco was horrified to find that his eyes were prickling, and he furiously blinked to stop them from leaking.

Potter was watching him. He could tell, even without looking at him, he could always tell when he was watching him. It drove him mad all of 6th year, feeling Potter's gaze on him and never seeing him. "You think you deserve a life sentence? Do you really believe that?" Potter's angry voice made him snap his head up to look at him. "Of course." He answered, confused. It was true enough. He had fought on the wrong side, tortured and harassed students the whole year, and had been the reason for Dumbledore's death the year before that, not to mention what happened to Bell and the Weasel. He deserved whatever punishment the public demanded.

Potter shook his head. "You should go. The Aurors will be here soon. I won't tell them I saw you." He turned and started walking away. "Wait! Potter!" Draco yelled after a moment. Potter stopped but didn't turn around. "Thank you. For the wand, I mean. " He said. Potter nodded. Draco hoped he would understand  the meaning behind his words, the things he couldn't bring himself to say. But then again, this was Potter. Draco would have been surprised if he was at all adept in the art of reading between the lines. Potter started moving, towards his friends, towards the dead, and towards the light.

Thank you for ridding the world of him.

Thank you for saving me.

And Draco moved further back into the dark forest, until he felt that he was past the wards, and then with a loud crack the Forbidden Forest was once more empty, save for the creatures that called it home.