Orphans of War

Chapter 3

Published: 9/25/2021

Clingy was not something Draco thought the Chosen One would be, but he definitely changed his mind after a few days with Potter haunting his every step. He was grateful, especially after seeing the glares and cracking knuckles of his fellow students everywhere he went. But no one tried anything the moment Potter showed up. Now, Potter walked him everywhere: to class, to eat, even to the loo, which was awkward.

If Potter knew he was saving him from a barrage of beatdowns, he never mentioned it. He just talked... incessantly. Draco wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise, but for the few non-rhetorical questions Potter asked, like if he wanted to eat. In class and at lunch, Potter sat right next to him, even if he (they) went to the library. There, at least, Potter would shut up.

But... Draco was safe. No one was punching him or threatening him. If he could just accept Potter's annoying habits, then he would survive. He was going to take the offer of safety. But he also noticed that Potter was being ostracized by his friends. No one sat with them when they ate or in class. No one came to visit Potter in their room. Did Harry throw his mates over for him? Draco wondered. He was half-tempted to ask, but didn't. The status quo was in his favor. Why do anything that might change that?

"Ready for dinner?" Harry asked, when they were in the library, loud enough to get a Shhh! from Madam Pince.

"Y-Yeah," he mumbled, closing his book and putting it into his bags.

Potter immediately started into the same conversation they had left off when they arrived at the library, like there hadn't been any interruption.

"So, if you believe it, Percy... that stuck up ponce... actually purposed to Penelope, after ignoring her through the whole war. She was so pissed and hexed him bad. It was hilarious. And then... she said yes! Isn't love crazy?" Potter said, loudly and did give him a pause, to see if he wanted to contribute to the conversation.

Draco gave him his classic why-are-you-talking-to-me look and just kept walking. Potter, unfazed, then went on to explain how everyone, and their brother, reacted. Chatterbox was a new adjective he came up with to describe Potter. As they walked into the Great Hall, he was still explaining everything he could possibly think of regarding Percy Weasley. Even after several days, dozens of students still watched their progress in condemnation, as they sat down at their table. He could feel the glares at his back as he filled his plate and ate, while Potter pattered on.

"Hey, Harry," Longbottom said, suddenly, and sat across from them. "How's the... umm... everything going?"

Potter shrugged. "Okay. Not making much headway."

Headway? Draco wondered, but didn't say anything. Talking was not something he was interested in doing.

"Oh... well... umm... so, how have you been, Draco?" Longbottom asked, looking at him unexpectantly.

"Okay," he muttered and stabbed his food. He felt uneasy as Greg and Pansy glared at him from a few tables down and mumbled something low about "waiting until the traitor is alone".

"Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to you," Longbottom said, angrily, and Draco gave him a quizzical look and then to Potter, who was equally annoyed. Neither seemed to want him to get his just desserts. They were mad on his behalf.

"They're not being discreet about their plans," Potter muttered.

Draco nodded and looked at his food. So, Potter was paying attention. He was usually a brick.

Potter sighed and shrugged, but Neville (no Longbottom, he mentally checked himself) leaned closer. "Draco... you don't have to be afraid."

His eyes flashed at Gryffindor, who used to be afraid of... everything and growled, "I'm not afraid."

"Well, you're walking around like you expect to be attacked at any given second," Potter mumbled. "I can ask more of my friends to walk with us, if it'll make you feel better."

Draco gave him a confused look. Apparently, Potter had noticed even more than he thought. "No... you don't have to do that. You don't have to walk me everywhere."

"I don't have to, but I will. You don't deserve to be pulverized by everyone."

Draco grimaced. "And you don't need to piss off all your friends to help me. I can take care of myself."

Longbottom gave him a confused look. "We aren't pissed off, Draco."

Draco nodded to the gaggle of Potter's cronies sitting further down the table.

Potter laughed, awkwardly. "Ah... no... they're staying away because one, they're all a little intense right now. And two, I didn't think you'd want to be surrounded by loud Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws are decently quiet, but with Ernie and Seamus going on at the same time... they'll talk your ear off."

"You talk my ear off, Potter. You haven't stopped talking to me in three days."

Potter blushed and looked to Neville-fucking hell-Longbottom, who said, with a knowing smirk, "I'll leave you to it, Harry."

When Nev-Longbottom left, Potter sighed. "Sorry, I don't just want to walk around in awkward silence with you. All you do is watch everyone like they're about to attack you."

"They are about to attack me, Potter," Draco said, confused. He thought Potter understood, but maybe he needed to spell it out for him.

"Really? Are they going to attack you in the library? In class... in our fucking dorm room? I've been through the war, too, and aren't as... paranoid as you are. I mean... if you are...hurt... on edge, maybe we can go see Madam Pomfrey for some Calming Draught for you?"

"I already have some."

"You do?"

"It's not hard to make, Potter."

"Okay... is it from the war? Like... shell shock?" Potter pressed.

Draco sighed. "You literally just heard Greg and Pansy talking about it, and probably heard Tracey and Millicent planning to corner me after Arithmancy. I'm not paranoid if people are actually out to get me, Potter."

He nodded. "Vol-Riddle was always after me. People have always planned shit... to hurt, humiliate and even help me without my approval. My point is... you can't live your life like you're going to die at any second. You have to live, too. You also have to study and prepare for your NEWTs. You're not doing that."

Draco stared at him and sighed. Potter was right. Most of the threats were all talk. The first years probably aren't planning anything. Tracey and Millie were bitches, but weren't players. Pansy and Greg were something to be worried about, though. They would catch him unawares eventually.

"I don't want to be hurt anymore," Draco admitted.

"I can understand that. But live a little. You need good marks on your exams. McGonagall told me that you were way behind."

Draco cranked his neck to look at him and growled suspiciously, "When did she say that and why?"

Potter sighed, as though caught. "At your trial, Malfoy, in deliberations. She said that you were just like any other student caught in a no-way-out situation. She said you scored in the highest percentile for your OWLs, and then, in sixth year, you stopped your studies. Even last year under Snape, she said that you didn't try to study, to learn. She said that you were a victim, that Vol-he took away your childhood and you deserved a chance. I believe so, too. That's why I want you to feel safe. Not worry about if you're going to survive the day."

Draco's eyes watered, but he wiped them away quickly. He looked at the table, unable to look at Potter, anymore. "He took a lot more than just my childhood," he whispered.

"I know," Potter said, with a deep knowing sigh.

Draco nodded. If there was one person who understood him, it was Potter. They had so much in common... most of which Potter didn't realize... and Potter knew what the Dark Lord was and what he did to people. From the moment he stepped off the train at the end of his fifth year... the terror never ended. The Dark Lord moved into his home... became a second father. Tortured him when it fancied him. Threatened to kill him and his parents, and there was no way out.

"I didn't think I'd survive," Draco whispered.

Potter nodded, stoically. "I'm sorry... and I know how you feel, Malfoy. But you did survive. Care to wake up and start over?"

Draco kept his eyes on his half-eaten plate. "You can't start over, Potter. No one would ever let me start over. All they'll see is this," he said, flipping over his arm that, though it was covered, had the faded Dark Mark on it.

"All they see is this," Potter said and flopped back his untamed hair to reveal his lightning scar. "He gave me this, too."

Draco snorted. "Yeah... when you were one after your parents died. This was branded on me on my knees in front of all the Death Eaters." The memory still hurt to think about. All he could remember was the pain.

But Harry leaned toward him and asked, "Did you want to join him?"

"No," he whispered desperately, but still in fear, as though admitting it could get him killed.

"There you go. Death Eaters, real Death Eaters, are monsters and want that Mark. It was forced on you, Draco."

Draco looked at him, in shock. "You said my name."

"Mates don't usually call each other by their last name."

"We aren't mates."

"Frenemies?"

Draco gave him a look.

"Come on, Draco. Let's start over. Forget about the mountain of crap between us."

"Forget? You're going to forget that I broke your nose? That I insulted you, your parents and your friends every chance I got? That I let Death Eaters into the school to kill you all? Nearly did to three of your friends. I Crucioed people and took over their minds! Yeah... just forget that I watched him kill muggles and mud-mug-gleborns in front of me and did nothing? No one could ever forget that Potter. Now, leave me alone!" he spat and stood up.

Potter didn't try to stop him as he left the Great Hall. Plenty of students watched him, but no one followed him. He wasn't going back to their dorm room and face Potter, again. No, he wanted solitude. He went to the highest tower for air.