The Boy Who Lived... Unfortunately

Chapter 3 - In The Hogwarts Common Room

But I don't ever wanna be like you,

I don't wanna do the thing you do,

I never gonna hear the things you say,

And I don't ever wanna,

I don't ever wanna be you.

Draco was waiting outside Snape's dungeon, a rare worried expression on his face. It was a relief for him to drop his arrogant, self-assured façade while no one was there to see. The truth was, Draco had never been more concerned for someone, or something, other than himself.

Draco tapped his long, pale fingers distractedly against the damp stone wall. No answer to his woes appeared, but after a while his fingers started to hurt, so he stopped. He couldn't understand what was going on. Things were changing, and if there was one thing that scared Draco Malfoy, it was change.

First of all, there was the whole Voldemort thing. I mean, having a Dark Lord, weak and powerless, all alone with no aid hidden in a far away forest was one thing. It didn't really matter then, whether or not the rumours about you parents were true. But now, with Voldemort's return finally out in the open, Draco life seemed set to go off the rails. After all, who wanted anything to do with a Death Eater's son?

Then, there was this whole thing with Potter. Now, what was going on there? As much as Draco hated to admit it, the afternoon he had spent in the library with Potter (before Madame Pince had kicked them out for laughing too loudly) had been fun. Truth be told, Draco had never really given the boy a chance. But now that he'd spent time with him, Draco knew he was nothing at all like what Draco's father had told him he would be. Draco leaned back and closed his eyes, remembering.

"Mudbloods, Blood traitors, Half-breeds, they're all the same!" Lucius had said.

"That Harry Potter made a choice to associate with riffraff like the Weasleys, and that mudblood Granger, the giant Hagrid, and that old fool Dumbledore. If you know that, then you know what he's like. He is pathetic! No self-respect, not some one you should be seen with. You are better than them, Draco."

Better than them?

"You're better than those freckle-faced, good for nothing, poor as dirt Weasleys!"

Good for nothing?

"You're better than that Mudblood scum. People like that don't know which way up to hold their wand!"

Hermione? Not know how to hold a wand?

"You're better than that self-righteous bastard Potter! He'll go the same way as his parents, no doubt about it!"

The same Potter who had thwarted Lord Voldemort, Draco's father's boss, more times than Draco could remember.

"Malfoy?"

Draco opened his eyes, shook his head, bringing it back to the here and now. He saw Potter and gave the usual smirk he saved especially for him.

"Come on, then. Let's get this over with."

* * * * *

Harry was getting extremely confused. He slammed the icy door shut on yet another freezing day, casting a puzzled side look at Malfoy, who was leaning coolly against the doorframe, surveying him with a contemptuous look on his face.

"Get a move on, Potter," he spat, in the tone of someone who had spent such a long time ordering around servants that it had become a habit.

"I'm not a bloody house-elf!" Harry snapped. He continued, "I don't suppose you could help?"

"Stop wasting my time, Potter," Draco drawled. "I showed up, didn't I?"

Harry slammed another drawer shut and veered around to face Draco.

"What is with you?" He demanded furiously. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" Draco shot back, contempt and annoyance mixing on his face.

"Like a bastard!"

"I AM a bastard, Potter. What? Did you think that we being potion partners would automatically make us friends?" he laughed maliciously.

"No!" Harry denied angrily, "But at least this morning you acted civilised. At least then you treated me like an equal!"

Draco laughed again. He stepped towards Harry, so close Harry could notice Draco's unsteady breathing didn't match his confident manner.

"I am better than you, Potter," he whispered.

Malfoy stepped towards Harry imposingly.

"I am much, much better...

I'm not

...Than you and your pathetic...

I'm pathetic

...Dirty blooded friends."

What does dirty blood mean, anyways? Isn't all blood red? Isn't it the same? thought Draco

Harry saw a cacophony of mixed emotions dance across Malfoy's usually stoic face. But it was covered quickly as Draco took up again his usual condescending pose.

Harry saw a fist slam into Draco's face, moments before realising it was his own. Biting back a vicious remark, he turned and strode towards the door without looking back. He strode out of the dungeon, heart pounding.

I'm so STUPID! Malfoy will NEVER change!

He had been wrong to think there was any chance Draco Malfoy could change. That morning had just been a one off. He was a cold hearted bastard. He always would be.

Time for a contradiction, me thinks.

"Potter!"

Thank you.

Harry spun on his heel, to see Draco running to catch him up.

"What?" he asked as politely as he could manage.

Draco spat on the ground. "Violence never solved anything, don't you know?" he growled.

Harry stepped up closer to him. "And since when has that ever bothered you?"

Draco opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. He was breathing heavily. Harry paused, wondering...

"Is there something you wanted to say?"

Pause.

"I'm sorry." Draco said. It looked painful.

Harry blinked. "What?" he said again.

Draco averted his gaze, hands in pockets, and gave a sort of half shrug.

"I said I'm sorry. Ok, Potter?" he mumbled shamefully.

"I didn't mean what I said; I was just...being an arse."

"No change then," Harry said ruefully. Draco gave him a look which plainly said I'm trying, why can't you?

Harry sighed. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

"Precisely."

Draco fell into step with Harry as they continued down the corridor.

"It's just, when I was waiting for you, I was thinking about this morning, and how, you know, we got on ok, and I remembered something my father had said once, and I started feeling guilty. I mean, he's in Azkaban; I feel like I'm betraying him just saying this to you..."

Draco paused as they reached a corner. He turned to look at Harry, and said solemnly, "The truth is...I'm not like my father. I don't really believe I'm better than Granger; I'd have to be stupid not to notice she's cleverer than me by far. I don't really think I'm better than Weasley either. I don't really hate you, it's just I've always treated people the way my father told me too."

He sighed.

"I know people think that because my dad is a Death Eater, I am, too. I'm not. If it ever came down to choosing a side, I'd choose yours. But it's complicated."

Harry leaned back against the wall, perplexed.

"What's complicated about it?"

"It's easy for you! You're just doing what people expect you to. It's the way you've always been. But me...I'm a Slytherin, Potter. And Slytherins are very prejudiced against."

"What?! Slytherins are the prejudiced ones. All that mudblood crap, you don't hear that from anyone but Slytherins."

"See? That's what I mean. People assume just because you're a Slytherin, you're an evil bastard, that you support Voldemort, that you hate all the other houses, that you're on the Dark side. And, besides, it's not just that. I could put up with not having everyone believe me. But there are my friends...and my family. I'd have to sacrifice them if I was to help fight the war...they don't share my views, not all of them anyway."

Draco turned, his shoulders slumped, to face the corridor leading to the Slytherin Common room. "My parents would disown me if I told them. So it's better just to pretend. Understand?"

Harry didn't answer at once. He was trying to digest just what Malfoy was saying. Things didn't seem so clear anymore.

"Yes."

They said goodbye and went their separate ways. As Harry walked back to the tower, his mind was buzzing. Everything he had ever known suddenly seemed shaken up. There wasn't, as he'd always believed, a fine line between good and evil, right and wrong. Things weren't just in black and white, but in many different shades of grey.

Back on his way to the dungeons, Malfoy sloped grumpily past the portrait of Pervicious the Perverted. He cast an angry side look at the groping giant when something rather odd about it attracted his full attention.

Was that the Fat Lady?

Casting away all naughty thoughts about portrait subjects and their hormones, Draco took a closer look at what had really grabbed his attention.

The portrait was on a slant, the top left corner had come loose so that it was hanging slightly to the side. Behind it, instead of a wall, as is the usual way, was what looked like a short passageway. Ignoring the not-too-nice sounds coming from the picture, Draco crept closer and peered through, seeing a warm looking room, decorated in all Hogwarts colours with many tables and chairs scattered over the room. It was huge, about 4 times as big as the Slytherin common room, but it did not give a vast impression as it was so cluttered with furniture, and had quite a low ceiling.

Carefully, Draco removed the portrait completely, and entered the room, thankful the descriptive paragraph was over, for the obvious reason that he had been stuck near the offending portrait at the time. He made his way down the passage into the room. He had been right; the room was very warm, due to several bright fireplaces lining both sides. He noticed there were four different types of chairs mixed together. First, there were some hard looking green leather chairs which he recognised as being the same chairs as those in the Slytherin common room. Then, there were canary yellow beanbags, which looked distinctly Hufflepuff, and dark blue seats, the kind that reminded Draco of studies and doing hard work, which surely must belong to Ravenclaw. Finally was a selection of squashy armchairs in deep red and gold. Gryfindor.

"Those jammy gits," Draco commented, sinking in one and finding it was extremely comfortable.

I wonder where this place is, Draco pondered to himself.

He was answered almost immediately when he looked up and saw in large letters over the entrance reading The Hogwarts Common Room, above which was the Hogwarts shield.

Draco looked around.

Although there wasn't a trace of dust (the house elves had obviously been doing their jobs at least), there was a distinct feeling to the room that made Draco think it hadn't been touched for centuries.

"Oh! Who are you, then?" said a surprised voice over Draco's shoulder.

Draco spun. There was no one there. Making a mental note to visit his psychiatrist, Draco got up and headed towards the exit.

"Leaving, are you?" said the voice.

Draco turned again. He peered warily around the room but could see no source for the voice. He turned once again, and this time he had just reached the portrait hole when he heard the voice laughing merrily.

"Oh, you don't know who I am, do you?" it said, giggling. It was a female voice, and young.

"Don't tease the poor lad, Cleopatra," said another voice, male this time, who sounded very much like he had just awoken.

Draco looked wildly around the room, and it finally clicked.

At the far end of the room, mounted on a long shelf, where five stone statuettes, each a different animal. First was a small unicorn, the one called Cleopatra. Next to her, looking quite ruffled and tired, was a large and sleepy looking owl. Underneath him was a plaque that read Arnold. Next to Arnold was a sneaky looking rat called Tobias who was snoring softly on his plinth; a meek looking mole named Mercaous blinking and rubbing its tired looking eyes, and finally a phoenix that had just woken, called Fawkes who took a shocked look at Draco, and took off from his perch and soared out of the room.

"Oh, don't mind Fawkes," said Arnold slowly, as Draco's jaw dropped. "He's just going to get his living brother."

"Only one who can," stammered Mercaous quietly. "Ours are all dead."

By now, there was about a thousand questions dancing on Draco's tongue, and they all burst out at once.

"Who are you? What are you? How come that bird can fly when he is a statue? What's a living brother? What is this place and why is it so empty?" He could have gone on, but when he paused for a breath, Arnold, who seemed to be the leader, intervened.

"Stop, young man. Stop talking. So many questions... Now, this is the Hogwarts common room, and it used to be used all the time, until the houses got so competitive. Now, there is so much inter-house rivalry that no one would dream of coming here! Fawkes' living brother is the live phoenix, the one our Fawkes is a statue of. The real Fawkes belongs to Dumbledore now, though of course he is so old, he has been through many owners. And we are the guardians of this common room, from back in the day,"

Draco nodded, glad the plot had finally been advanced. He'd begun to get a little bored.

The unicorn suddenly let out a high-pitched gasped and started jumping up and down on her plinth.

"Oooh! Oooh! I've just remembered! He's..."

Arnold reached out one long wing and smothered her next words.

"We aren't to tell him. We're to send him to see Dumbledore."

Draco gulped. Fawkes (the statue) swooped back in the room and landed on his shelf looking smug.

"Dumbledore is ready for you in his office," he said bossily, "And you must take someone with you!"

"What do you mean?" asked Draco, utterly bewildered, "Take who?"

"That's up to you," Fawkes said, "but they must be from a different house. I'd hurry if I were you, there won't be many people up now."

Throwing them one last quizzical look, Draco strode from the room, and as soon as he had rounded the corner, he broke into a run.

* * * * *

Harry was sitting on a bench in the Entrance Hall, drumming his fingers distractedly on an annoyed looking portrait, when he caught up with him.

"Oi, Potter!"

Harry looked up, and saw Draco walking towards him, looking apprehensive.

"What's up?" Harry asked friendly.

"You've got to come with me to Dumbledore's office now." Draco blurted out.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"I'll explain on the way. Come on! We're not in trouble...at least, I don't think we are."

Harry got up and followed Draco, who filled him in on what had just happened.

"And they didn't say why?" asked Harry.

Draco shook his head. "Nope. I didn't think to ask, I just wanted to get out of there. You know the whole time all I could hear was the portraits humping."

Harry snorted. "Lovely," he said, "So, there's a Hogwarts common room. Is it nice?"

"Well, it's nicer than the Slytherin common room, I'll put it that way."

Harry laughed, "Well, that's not hard!"

Draco paused. "How do you know. When have you ever been in the Slytherin common room?"

Harry bit his lip, but there seemed no point in trying to cover up, so instead he told Draco all about the time they had suspected him of being the heir of slytherin. Draco seemed to find it extremely funny.

"Ha! You thought I was the heir? God, no wonder it took you the whole year to find the real heir!"

"Shut up" Harry said, but he was laughing. "I did it in the end didn't I?"

"Yeah. You always manage in the end. You bastard!"

They had reached Dumbledore's office by now.

Malfoy stopped and looked at Harry rather anxiously.

"What?" Harry asked, nudging him towards the door, "I haven't got all night!"

"Yeah well, you go first!"

Harry stopped. "What? It's only Dumbledore"

"I don't know Dumbledore as well as you"

"Oh for God's sake..." Harry pushed the door open, knocking as he did. At the last second, he grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder and pushed him through first.

Oh come on, the boy is allowed a sense of humour!

Ahem. Harry followed and glanced over Malfoy's shoulder and saw Dumbledore standing a short way away, surveying them both as if they each had three breasts.

Or, any amount of breasts, even.

Dumbledore coughed. "It's...you" He informed Draco.

Malfoy gave Harry a disturbed look. Harry jabbed him in the shoulder and smiled encouragingly at Dumbledore.

"And....you..." continued Dumbledore, moving his gaze onto Harry. Beside him, Harry could feel Malfoy begin to shake with pending laughter.

"Erm... you wanted to see us?" Harry said unsurely.

Dumbledore coughed. "So, Harry, you found the common room, and you chose to bring Mr. Malfoy along with you?"

Harry shook his head. "Other way around."

"Yeah, I found it," chimed in Malfoy, "It was behind the portrait of the Pervy Giant!"

Harry fortunately suppressed what could have been a very girly giggle.

Dumbledore seemed to be having a hard time ingesting the information he'd been presented with.

"So Malfoy chose Harry to come with him?"

"Yes"

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir"

"Chose Harry?"

"Yes"

"Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes"

"Harry Potter?"

"YES!"

Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds. 'God I wish the narrator would stick her big fat nose in when it's wanted, for once,' he thought, 'and then I'd have time to think about this'

I refuse to oblige.

"Please, boys, sit down," Dumbledore said warmly.

Finally, this story might actually be going somewhere!

"It is time for my usual speech of good will and wisdom, several of which I have to make per book. Some of the elements have changed, for instance, usually it comes at the end of the story, and normally it's just to Harry. Anyway, here goes.

"For some years now, there have been...signs...telling me that in order to defeat Voldemort, inter-house relations must be immaculate. No, that isn't a hair-removal-cream, Draco. It means perfect. I have taken many steps to encourage you all to get on, teachers have been told to pair up from different houses, and the Sorting hat gave his little warning last year. However, it has never been enough. And now, I think, the only way we can unite, and therefore have a chance at victory, is if a prophecy made centuries ago, when the disagreements first began, is fulfilled."

Harry groaned.

"Don't worry, different prophecy," Dumbledore told him. Harry rolled his eyes.

"The prophecy, as I remember it, is as follows:

The day will come, when the school is array,

And in dire need of friendships strength,

Few will discover bonds of unity,

And will re-build them at length,

Two chosen by the Five Guards,

Begin to tear down the wall

To succeed is to be victorious

To fail, the ruin of all.

Dumbledore coughed, and smiled. "A lot easier to understand than the other, Harry," he said amicably. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Can we go now?" asked Draco who was picking off his flaking cuticle.

"Malfoy!" said Harry indignantly.

"What? I'm bored of plot advancement. The time is ripe for either a pointless but humorous scene, or something of a sexual nature, which hasn't happened yet. And by the way, Harry, you can call me Draco now, the narration does."

Touché.

After some discussion, Dumbledore, Harry and Malfoy, sorry Draco, decided now wasn't the time for a deep discussion. It was actually time for a quick and unpredictable leap in time.

* * * * * *

Hermione sat in the library, which is, after all her favourite place to be, waiting for Harry, who was after all, one of her favourite people, looking into her storm box, which was fast becoming her new favourite toy. Despite all this, Hermione was not having a good day, and for very selfish reasons too. Something that had been eating at her for a while now had become impossible to ignore. Now she had to admit the truth, at least to herself. She stared pensively into the clouds, thinking about everything Harry had told her, when a sudden noise shocked her out of her stupor.

"Boo!" said Harry, grabbing her from behind. Hermione yelped. "Harry, you scared me!" she gasped.

"Sorry," Harry said, looking suitably abashed.

"So you should be!" she continued, beginning to enjoy herself.

"Sorry."

"What if I'd been writing. I was just about to pick up a quill, you would have made me smudge!"

"Sorry."

Hermione laughed. "Stop apologising. Come on, let's go."

They set off out of the library.

"So it's a no-go with Ron then?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "Begged like hell though. Embarrassing really. Honestly, only Ron could get a detention in his first week."

"Excuse me, but you got a detention on your very first day in the second year!"

"Oh yeah," Harry laughed, "Forgot about that. Anyway what do you think?"

"About what?"

"About what happened last night. I know you too well Hermione, so don't deny that you have spent the entire day forming an opinion on the matter, and you're now going to share it with me."

Hermione laughed. "Ok, you do know me well. But to be honest, I don't know what to think. Obviously, Dumbledore thinks you and Malfoy are supposed to work together to bring inter-house co-operation, but...maybe it's a coincidence. I mean, Malfoy? He's not the type!"

"I never would have thought, but actually he was saying some other stuff last night that actually made sense."

"About...?"

"About how we're all actually just as prejudiced against the Slytherins as they are against us, and how just because someone's parents are Death-Eaters, doesn't mean they are themselves. I mean, the whole thing about me almost being in Slytherin, just shows that it's our choices that are important, not what we're born. That's what Dumbledore said anyway. I just think maybe we should give Malfoy more of a chance."

"I agree."

Harry stopped suddenly. "You do?"

"Yes."

"Just like that?"

"Harry," said Hermione shaking her head, "I've thought that all for a while now. But you and Ron just wouldn't listen would you? You just liked a chance to insult Malfoy."

"Well, I can't argue with that. Come on, it must be around here somewhere."

They stopped. Hermione pointed at a large portrait with a disgusted look on her face. "That must be it!" Harry looked over at where she was pointing and started laughing.

"Harry, you are so immature. Harry, stop laughing. Harry, I am going to hit you if you don't stop laughing. I'm not in a good mood, I am not having a good day. Go through the damn portrait...thank you. Was that really so hard. Harry, stop laughing!"

I have a feeling Hermione purposely made it clear in what she was saying that they had entered the room, so that it wasn't necessary for me, the narrator, to tell you so. For this, I'm am going to blab her little secret...

Hermione has got the hots for Harry!

"Shut up!" Hermione whispered fiercely.

Harry was still laughing and didn't hear.

"This must be the place" he said, looking around the deserted common room.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "But this chapter has been going on for way too long. We better freeze in time until the narrator get's rid of her writing block and explains what we're doing here in the first place.

That's it Hermione! I'm the one writing this story. I am going to make your life hell!! Anyway.....

....time for a chapter break!