Fields of Innocence

Daily Prophet

Lucius Malfoy found dead...murdered in his own home...likely suspects: the Dark Lord. (for more information, turn to page 3)

Draco looked down at the paper in disgust. The press had nothing better to report on and had to make a spectacle of his father, parading around, announcing his death and downfall. Draco did not know what to feel. Was he to be sad? Sad for the death of a man who showed him no emotion, care, or kind words? Only taunts and death curses.

Someone had entered the room. Draco looked up to see his porcelain mother enter the room, a sullen look marring her beautiful face. His father's death had left his mother dark and dismal, feeling pain and loss for a man who had felt nothing his entire life. His mother broke the silence.

"You'd better get ready for school, Draco."

"Yes, mother." Draco left the room and went upstairs. Draco had wanted to comfort his mother. The poor woman had probably never felt the embrace of a hug for years now, as all his father could think about was the uprising of the Dark Lord. Draco could not see the reason of his father's obsession to that reptile man. Lord Voldermort was a bag of skin and bones, a lost wizard trying to hold onto a lost hope...that he would return as the greatest Dark wizard there ever was. Draco snorted. Voldermort could not even manage to kill a baby properly even when he had reached his zenith, so how could he even dream of killing Harry Potter now that he's grown? Draco shook his head. Although he disliked Potter, he could never wish death upon him. His father was foolish enough to join Voldermort's ranks, and it had cost him his life.

For once in his life, Draco did not know what to do. It was a cardinal rule for him to do the opposite his father said. Ever since he was a little boy, he realized his doctrines of life differed from his father, and though he would answer his father one way, he would think another. That was how he survived his sixteen years of life. That and a childhood friendship he would always remember when doubt filled him. But she probably doesn't want to remember me, he thought angrily. Draco was a man of few words, and even fewer friends. Probably because of the former, the result was the latter, but he didn't have idle time to contemplate the reasons of reality.

***

Cho looked around the compartment to make sure no one was causing trouble. Being Head Girl was tiring work, but it was well-deserved. Occasionally, Cho would turn her head in hopes of glimpsing him, her childhood friend who no longer acknowledged her existence. A door opened. Harry, looking sad and lost, entered. Cho's heart went out to him.

"I'm really sorry about Sirius, Harry...I know he was your godfather...I heard you were close...I meant to write...but I thought it would be better to give you my condolences in person..." Cho felt forlorn and awkward and said all this in frequent pauses. She moved in to hug Harry. He put his arms around her, his tall 6' build engulfed Cho's petite 5'1" athletic frame. He had grown over the summer physically, and emotionally. "I'm really sorry about Sirius, Harry," she repeated.

Harry smiled and said, "Thanks, Cho...means a lot to me, really."

"I'm sorry for all the times I acted like an idiot, and cried like mad for the dumbest reasons."

"It's all right, Cho."

Cho stepped back to look at him. "You seem tired...maybe you should find a compartment and rest."

"I need to find Ron and Hermione...they're prefects...and patrolling."

"That reminds me...I have to finish my patrolling...hope you feel better Harry."

***

Draco looked into the compartment. Why is Cho hugging that damn Potter? he thought angrily. He moved closer.

"I'm really sorry about Sirius, Harry..." he heard Cho say.

Who cares about that filthy outlaw? I lost my father! I don't see her coming to me, offering condolences! were the thoughts running through an outraged Draco. Potter beats me at everything, he thought. Even getting sympathy...from Cho...bastard...He stomped angrily back into his compartment.

***

"Give it back, Draco!" giggled five year old Cho, running after the devious little blond.

"Only if you say, 'I will forever be your slave, Draco, King of Dragons!'"

"I will forever be your slave, Draco, King of Dung!" cried Cho as she ran away from a chasing Draco. He caught her and they fell in an undignified heap onto the grassy lawns of Malfoy Manor.

Draco looked down at his best friend, into her amber, almond-shaped eyes, saying,

"We'll be the bestest friends forever, Cho," almost commanding.

Cho woke with a start. That dream, memory, was a recurring one. It visited her sleep every so often, to remind her of the promise she made years ago to the one boy who had her heart since childhood. Poor Draco, she thought. When he was young, Draco's life hadn't yet been tainted by the lies and impurities his father had thrusted upon him. The Draco she knew as a child, never cared for the pure wizard line, or the importance of discriminating against Muggles and Muggleborns. Those were the times of running around in bliss ignorance, bounding in fields of innocence, not knowing the realities that lay to split them apart. But as time passed, Cho noticed the strong hold his father had on Draco; how Draco never cared for Quidditch anymore, but for winning the game. The small changes baffled her, slowly driving her away from her best friend. His constant rantings whenever Lucius was near, of the importance of heritage and blood at the age of nine, made her think that he might turn on her as she was pureblooded, but Chinese. Her paranoia had a ring of truth when Draco's father forbade him to see the Muggle sympathizer; Lucius was afraid of Cho's influence and made the excuse that Draco could not ever see Cho again because she wasn't pureblooded enough to mingle with the likes of pureblooded Englishmen. But, somewhere in the recesses of Draco's mind, lay his promise to Cho, and he always sent her gifts on special occasions, but this all stopped once she attended Hogwarts. Could there be that happy and loving Draco left somewhere, held back, just hiding under the surface? Cho wondered.

Cho lay back down, slowly sinking into the bed. Draco must be lonely now...His "mentor," if you could even call Lucius that, is now gone...He must feel distant and aloof...I should go talk to him...she decided and promptly went back to sleep.

***

I feel a void

An empty space

A parent's love

Parent to child

Is only a fleeting dream

In place of kind words

His voice taunts

Brings me down

Until I can take no more...

Meanwhile Cho had her revelation, Draco stayed awake contemplating his future. It was his secret desire to become an Auror, to fight the very dark wizards his father had endlessly supported. But he would make a spectacle of himself, by becoming one, as his father was once in Voldermort's inner circle. He would be a walking contradiction, and his father, taunting him even from beyond the grave. No matter what I do, my father's shadow will conceal from the light, his darkness forever snatching my little hold of confidence and independence. Draco felt defeated and badly wanted a companion, someone to confide all these conflicting thoughts before he exploded; an end product of bottled up emotions and sixteen years of suppressed rebellion. If only I still had...He couldn't even finish that sentence. It made him feel stupid and cowardly to have severed a friendship so strong and dear, only to keep Lucius unaware of his true feelings towards dark magic. He presented to the whole world, a façade, to fool his father, and almost ended up fooling himself. The taunts and lies came so easily to his lips, that sometimes he would have to stop and ponder if he actually meant calling that witch a Mudblood, or if he was putting on a show. The one thing that was not fictitious was his dislike of Harry Potter. Cho had always talked incessantly about him to Draco. When Draco had offered Potter his hand in friendship, it was merely to impress Cho, whom he had lost contact with, for over a year.

Everything started with Potter, Draco thought angrily. He couldn't even make that "Dark Lord" go away properly, only to diminish his powers until he was deprived of a human body. Can't bloody do anything right, damn Potter. Draco paced around the dormitories, trying to block out the monotonous snores of Crabbe and Goyle. He looked out the window, watching the reddening sky of daybreak, his heart discomforted by the start of another tedious and extremely long day.

***

"Cho! Come here, QUICK!" cried Padma Patil. Cho rushed towards the source of commotion, near the Potions Corridor. There, she saw Harry, Ron and Draco, with their wands drawn, each with a characteristic snarl on their faces, with Hermione in the background, pulling on her friends' sleeves. Cho noticed how Draco was even alone in fighting his own battles, and she felt her childhood memories rushing back. When they young, they played pirates; she would be the damsel in distress, and Draco would save her from the imaginary pirates single-handedly. Cho's reverie broken when she heard Padma shout. Everything moved past with a blur. She felt a shock and then the ground rushed up to meet her.

***

Draco entered the Hospital Wing, stealthily, as it was after hours and no one was to be in the corridors. But, he had to get away and check on Cho. Cho was lying in the bed, and Draco "W walked over and stood at the foot of the bed, swearing to be her protector forever, just like when they were children. He moved, so that he could push back Cho's long black hair from her face. He looked into her face, memorizing each of her delicate Asian features. He was about to pull up the covers of her blanket when she opened her eyes.

"What happened? Why am I here, Draco?"

"Stupid Potter hit you with the Disarming spell...honestly, he has no aim at all."

hat are you doing here? It's dark...shouldn't you be in your dorms?"

"Cho...I...had to see you...I missed you for too long..."

Cho sat up to look at Draco. " I was always here for you, Draco...you never had to send me away..." she answered softly.

Draco's blond head lowered, to see her eyes shining with love, a reflection of his own silver orbs. " Lucius would have found out the real me...the one he tried to suppress...the me that never went away, Cho," Draco said apologetically. He reached for her and pulled her into a hug. This kind of spontaneity would have made the meticulous Lucius cringe, but then, Draco loved doing the opposite as he was told.

"I'm sorry about Lucius, Draco...I've been meaning to talk to you...to comfort you, if I could."

Draco put his hand to Cho's mouth, and lifted her chin up. "Cho, Lucius was just a man who never cared...a stranger in my life...I just need you back in my life...my best friend..." He leaned in to kiss Cho, and Cho felt her reservations of the lost Draco lift, and lost herself in the kiss. He would always a man of two sides; the spoiled Malfoy heir, but also the kind and loving Draco she had always known. Like the two sides of a coin, those qualities came as a package, for her and only her to love.

"Stay with me tonight, Draco? We've got a lot to catch up on," Cho said, imitating the famous Draco Malfoy smirk.

"Six years, in fact," Draco said, grinning as he climbed into bed, kissing Cho, his heart lifted and bounding with love.