Harry
Why did McGonagall have to send me to be in a safe house alone with Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore's would be killer? I had expected Draco to object and come kicking and screaming, but he just seemed, empty. Dumbledore had told me to grab Draco and run, before Snape and the other Death Eaters had gotten there, and because of that stupid promise I had made Dumbledore, I had obeyed. Draco had been shaking when he was standing in front of Dumbledore, he looked like he was having a mental battle with himself, and I'm not sure what he was thinking.
I had looked into his cold grey eyes, and I saw... nothing. He looked lost, as if he had no idea who he was or what was going on. With Draco looking so lost, no longer the sneering, vain bully I had known, I found it harder to hate him. I still did though. Though he did not do it himself, he was instrumental in Dumbledore's death.
I pull my thoughts back to the present, trying hard not to think of the horrible events of that night. The safe house we were brought to really wasn't that bad. It seemed like one of those "cottages" posh people owned that were really just mansions. Apparently it belonged to a member of the order who was a muggleborn from a very rich family. It really was great to use, because nobody would be looking for them in a rich muggle's country home.
We had been there for five days, and I had only seen Draco when he walked past me to the kitchen with his nose in a book. I don't understand how someone could read so much without going insane. For now, we were both ignoring each other, which was easy to do, due to the hugeness of the house. I know it won't last though, we'll have to talk to each other at some point.
After another day of avoiding each other, I get fed up, and go to the living room, where I know Draco will be reading. I want to get this over with. I hadn't seen Draco for more than 5 seconds since they arrived at the safe house, but what I see shocks me slightly. Draco Malfoy, who always had his hair slicked back, and robes spotless, was wearing a hoodie and jeans, with nothing done to his hair. After I had collected my thoughts, I walked toward Draco.
"Draco."
"Yes?" Draco said, looking up from his book.
"This is getting frustrating, and I wanted to get this awkwardness over with." Draco nodded, signalling me to go on, "It's pointless for us to be enemies any more. I saw you on that tower, you didn't want to kill Dumbledore, you were forced into this. Dumbledore thought you were worth a second chance, so I'm going to give you one."
"Thank you." Draco said, seeming surprised that I had given him a second chance. I hold out my hand, and we shake.
"Don't screw it up." I say.
"I won't."
"That's for me to decide."
"Fair enough."
"I'm going to go find something to eat."
Draco
After Harry left, I sit in my chair for a bit, stunned. Harry Potter had given me a second chance. We had struck a truce, who would have ever thought? I turn back to my book, I've done a lot of reading since getting here, the library is full of muggle novels, which I quite enjoy. I'm reading a trilogy called "Lord of the Rings" currently, and it's really good, though their idea of magic is quite inaccurate.
We both sit down for a rather awkward dinner a while later, and I'm surprised to find that Harry's cooking skills are actually quite decent, maybe even good.
"This is actually not awful; how did you learn to cook?" I ask, an attempt a conversation.
Harry paused for a moment before telling me about his life with the Dursleys, his aunt and uncle. They had kept Harry in a cupboard? That sounded utterly ridiculous. It dawned on me that Harry might be playing a trick on me. I squint at Harry, and I think he's being serious. Harry is always easy to read; his emotions show clearly in his expression.
"A cupboard? Seriously?" I ask, to be sure.
"Yep. My Hogwarts letter was even addressed to Mr. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs."
"I don't know whether to laugh or feel sorry for you."
"Most people do a bit of both."
I laugh a bit a that, wondering how Harry could always come up with the right thing to say. I'm usually the witty one, never without a snappy comeback. I was very popular among the Slytherins, a group of admirers, goons, whatever you call them, always around me. I hated all of them, but went along with it, it felt good in some way, they were the illusion of friends, but they were all to shallow to have an actual connection with.
I had never really worried about what to say, or how to act, because I was always acting with my Slytherin "friends". In this safe house with Harry, for the first time, I had abandoned my shiny facade of smirks, smart remarks, and gelled-back hair. I let go of the character I had been playing for so long, I just didn't give a shit anymore. I'm not really sure who I am anymore, but I don't really think I care. Hopefully I become someone soon.
"Draco? Hello? Anyone home?"
I shake my head slightly, dispersing all the thoughts swirling around. "Sorry. Just thinking."
Harry stares at me, and I feel as if those piercing green eyes were staring into my soul, or the mess of what's left of it.
"So," said Harry, snapping me out of my reverie yet again, "I've told you about my childhood, it's your turn."
Growing up in the Malfoy household was never easy. I decide to tell Harry about it, because he had been honest with me, and I don't really have anything to lose anymore.
"Well, my house, or rather mansion, wasn't filled with hugs and kisses either. It felt as if nothing I did would make my parents happy."
At this point, all the frustration I had bottled up inside and ignored for seventeen years came gushing out all at once.
"I guess, when I started at Hogwarts, I was relieved to have a break from their judgeful looks. I wanted to please them so badly, and I thought if I became this perfect little Slytherin, they might accept me. When I put on the sorting hat, I was terrified of what would happen if I wasn't in Slytherin. I honestly don't know what they would have done. I was saying over and over in my head, Slytherin, Slytherin, please Slytherin.
"I was pretending to be this person for so long, it became all I knew. It felt like someone else had taken over my body, and I had just surrendered, but when I was at the top of the tower that night, I just couldn't do it any more. I hated what I'd become. I destroyed that person, that mirage, I didn't care if there was nothing was left, I hated myself, I just wanted it gone."
I awkwardly stare at my plate after that, wondering how Harry is going to possibly reply to all of that.
"Damn, and I thought I had a shitty childhood. I'd say that's a pretty adequate excuse for being such a git."
"Thanks, really heartfelt."
"That's the best you're going to get."
"Fair enough."
Harry
After what Draco had told me, I was pretty shocked. For so long, he was just a bully, I didn't realize how bad Draco had it. What Draco said, about how when he was at the top of the tower he realized the monster he'd become. To lose every sense of identity you've ever had in one instant. I shiver at the thought. Draco's willpower amazed me, to have that happen to you, and still go on, still sane, for what I could tell. All these years hating Draco, and now I knew that was also how Draco felt about himself, he just didn't know it.
Over the next couple of days, I got to know him. At a quick glance, he seemed like the old Draco, but the change was drastic. All of his hard edges had softened, his smirks no longer harsh and condescending, but kind and humorous. His smiles were genuine, his laugh sincere, not mocking. I realized I liked this new Draco. I think that if he had been in Gryffindor, we would have become friends, hell, even Ron would have liked him.
Draco's voice had changed the most. Not his voice per say, but the way he spoke. He had always spoken loudly, and his voice said he thought he was the best person in the room. Now, Draco spoke quietly. Not a shy quiet, a forceful quiet. He always sounded modest, and his words were calm and intelligent. His voice was gentle, so different from what it had been. He spoke in a voice that could convince Snape to wash his hair.
I truly liked the new Draco. The new Draco, that sounded weird, he was still the same person. Maybe this was just what the real Draco was like. At first, I had thought Draco was screwing me over, going to betray me to Voldemort, but the more I got to know him, I realized he was being genuine. This real Draco, he wasn't so bad, I admitted to myself grudgingly.