Dead End

What do you do when you realise every choice you have ever made has brought you to a dead end? What do you do when you realise that you have no more answers, no more choices, no more chances? As Draco took his place in the circle of Death Eaters he started to realise that nothing was quite as simple as it had seemed last night.

"Till tomorrow."

That had been all he said to Harry, till tomorrow, what did that mean? Last night it had meant a hope of a future together after a terrible trial. Now it meant the end of a pretence Draco had kept up for so long. Which side should he choose? Had he already made his decision? Standing in the circle Draco knew it was time to decide but instead of the certainty that had been growing over the last few weeks he only felt confusion. How had he gone from Lucius Malfoy's son and heir to Harry's partner, to Harry's lover? How had he gone from being a servant of the Dark Lord to a soldier in Dumbledore's Army? Where had it all gone wrong?

Sixth Year. Ordered by the Dark Lord to gather information on Potter and his friends Draco lets slip that he is questioning his choice in life. Over the summer he has learnt a subtlety, having his Father in prison has forced him to grow up, fast. At first he just looks longingly at the other tables, looks interested occasionally when they explain their side of the war. Slowly, bit by bit, day by day, he lets comments fall that make the Slytherins wary and the Gryffindors even warier. It is almost Easter by the time that he is finally approached by Granger of all people asking him outright whose side he is on.

"It's time to stop playing games Draco."

Games? If only she knew how complicated the game was for him.

"I know. This isn't easy you know. Questioning everything I've been brought up to believe. I can't just change over night."

She shook her head at that and made to leave but he grabbed her arm.

"Don't go. It's hard but I'm trying. I think I may be on the wrong side. They're wrong, Potter's right, and I can't ignore that any longer."

She didn't quite believe his words but his pleading look made her stay.

"Look. All my life I've been told that muggleborns were worthless that one day we'd triumph over them. I've always been told that Potter is a liar and Dumbledore a fool. It was easy believing that but there are cracks in those theories. I was so angry when my Father was arrested but part of that was because I knew he should be arrested. Even then part of me had started to believe Potter's stories and I started to think about why he fought so hard."

Draco looked out of the window at the stars as he spoke. He'd been taught well, keeping up the pretence was hard and any trick that hid his face was useful.

"You know how hard I worked to beat you. How angry my Father was when time after time you were top of the class. If I wanted to believe that muggleborns were inferior then you've made that impossible. I don't pretend to like it but I can't keep pretending I think you're somehow subhuman."

He could feel Hermione's tenseness but as he spoke he also sensed her leaning towards him, she was buying it.

"I want to change but I can't just walk away now. I'm in too deep I think. You know my Mother's cousin was killed for trying to leave."

Now he turned and faced her again, a look of desperation in his face.

"Help me, please, I think he'll kill me too."

She'd bought his story of course. They all had. They fell for it hook, line and sinker. As the summer continued Draco had spent more time in the company of Harry and his friends. At first Harry himself ignored him largely, fearing a trap, but slowly Draco won his acceptance if not his trust. Like a good spy he had passed on details of those who were close to Potter. Any information he came across he sent straight to his Father in coded messages. Slowly though the lies started to blur with the truth. Working alongside Granger, it was hard not to respect her dedication and her sharp mind. In May he had caught himself actually enjoying a discussion of Potions with her. They were interesting people and as they started to accept him he found it easy to fall into a sort of friendship. He'd lost all his Slytherin friends through his pretence, though they tolerated his presence, and it was nice to have the human companionship.

At the end of the year Voldemort had attacked Potter's home town. In one stroke he had managed to destroy the safe haven that had been Potter's home, it was a brilliant move and one totally unexpected. Potter hadn't seemed to be upset though, he was angry but Draco never saw him mourn his lost family. A few days before they had to travel back Draco found him by the lake and used the chance to try and gain more of Potter's trust.

"Harry? Finished packing already?"

Harry skimmed a stone across the waves of the lake, his face unreadable.

"I don't want to pack myself, I can see no reason to look forward to returning home."

A carefully prepared lie but, as he uttered it, Draco wondered if it was true. He certainly didn't relish being back in the Dark Lord's presence and he wasn't sure how he felt about his Father anymore. Azkaban had changed him.

"I don't think I'm going to be very popular with my parents."

Finally Harry looked up at him.

"What do they know?"

"Only that I spend more time with you than with my Slytherin friends. I haven't been very forthcoming in letters. I can only hope my Father believes I am trying to infiltrate your ranks."

With a bitter laugh Draco tried to decipher the lies and truth in that statement.

"Will you be safe? I'm sure they can find somewhere else for you to stay this summer."

"I doubt it, it seems too late anyway. It's going to be a long summer though."

Draco picked up a stone and tossed it into the waves, carefully keeping his face blank. He could feel Harry's gaze on him, it seemed to be concerned which was good, though possibly the warm feeling in Draco's stomach at that thought wasn't so good.

"I'm sure they could. They found somewhere for me."

An opening. Draco wanted to seize it, to gain information on Potter and yet at the same time he suddenly wanted Harry to shut up.

"It must be strange, having no home to return to."

His voice was neutral and he didn't look at Harry at all.

"Home. I don't remember ever having a home. They weren't a loving family you know. By now you must have heard something of my childhood."

Draco shook his head and risked a quick, curious, look at Harry.

"I slept in a cupboard for most of my life. They hated me and they hated magic and they told me my parents had died in a car crash."

The next stone was hurled with great strength.

"I'm glad I'm not going back there ever again. He can't force me to go back now they're dead can he!"

Draco didn't need to ask who. Dumbledore, the old meddler himself.

"Ron's mum has been kinder to me than Aunt Petunia ever was. My summer might be happy for once."

The look on Harry's face called him a liar and Draco felt anger rising in him at how Harry had been treated. Belatedly he tried to convince himself it was anger at muggles mistreating a pureblood but he knew better.

"Lucky you then. Nice to be able to move on."

"Lucky? I never have to see them again. I suppose I am lucky."

Again his face proved him a liar and as Draco watched he was surprised to see a tear roll down Harry's angry face.

"Lucky I don't have to go back to face them. I guess my summer'll be better than yours. Funny that doesn't make me happy anymore. I'll keep in touch, through the code."

Draco nodded but stayed silent, wondering if any more was coming, trying to forget that he knew Potter would be with the Weasel family over the summer. He had almost decided to leave when he heard an angry sob escape Harry's lips and a whisper.

"It's my fault they died."

He stayed until Harry was calm again, watching over him as a friend might, unwilling to let him suffer alone.

The summer had indeed been long and hard. The poison of Potter, Granger and the others had invaded his mind so that when he stood before the Dark Lord all he could see was a half-blood fool. He had bowed all the same. As he learnt new techniques for gaining their trust, he held fast to the knowledge he was on the right side. As he learnt the lies that would keep him at the heart of Potter's friends he repeated to himself lies lies lies. As he sat with his parents, he remembered how he loved them. None of it had rung true though. He could no longer determine truth from fiction. Some days it had only been the coded messages from Harry that kept him going, even as he passed them onto his master. Some days he had spent long hours with his Father and wished they would never end. Draco had been a child so long, he had believed all he was told, and now he was an adult he was supposed to decide between two sets of lies and he couldn't.

He never told anyone Harry was with the Weasleys.

Seventh year. Potter hadn't enjoyed his summer. Dumbledore's forces were growing but none of them seemed to have an answer to the question of how to kill Voldemort. Draco had passed this fact on with little relish. He had told Harry that the Dark Lord was strong that he was ready to strike whenever he wished. Harry had laughed. They forged an unlikely partnership. Draco spent almost all of his time by Harry's side. The others had been unimpressed till Granger had spoken up for him. Draco found himself in top secret meetings trying desperately to glean information he never passed on. At night he would lie awake and try to remember which part of him was the real Draco and which the lie. Harry rarely spoke to him. The winter term had been long and full of whisperings. Rumours of the outside world filtered in and Draco learnt secondhand of the deeds of his Father and the Dark Lord. In silence Harry would sit with him, battling with his own inner demons. Both were content just to be, anything more would have been too difficult. Draco stayed over Christmas, he had been ordered home but resisted claiming it was too good a chance to have Potter to himself. This time he wasn't lying. That Christmas was one of Draco's clearest memories.

With no other Slytherins around Draco had moved into the Gryffindor dormitories, though he claimed the red and gold gave him nightmares. Christmas day had been magical though. Snow covered the castle like a blanket and Draco felt completely cut off from everything that wasn't Hogwarts and Christmas and Harry. The morning was filled with gift giving and laughter and with more food than Draco could imagine. Half way through the afternoon he had escaped to a nook in the Astronomy Tower. He was dreaming of home when Harry walked in. Thoughts of home had fled away at the sight of the other boy. Harry sat on the window seat next to Draco and let the curtain fall, covering them both. He hadn't said anything but Draco could remember those green eyes staring intently into his own pale grey eyes. All the lies, all the confusion had swirled around making him dizzy and he had felt himself drowning in the gaze. He must have fallen forwards because the next moment he found himself clasped tightly in Harry's arms as he shook and shivered. Did Harry understand what was going on in his mind? He never knew but it had been so safe and warm there he had relaxed into the embrace. For a brief moment they were at peace.

Their first kiss hadn't been until well into the spring. There were snowdrops outside and he had finally ventured out flying. Potter followed him, much to his annoyance. Lucius was getting impatient for more news and Harry kept telling him things. Draco was torn in two and even flying he wasn't safe. As the boys landed and walked to the changing rooms Harry had grabbed him and pushed him against the wall and kissed him. All teeth and lips and passion, Draco had never felt anything like it. It was as if he was being claimed. As if Harry was trying to possess him, to hold him captive and Draco found he yielded gladly. Harry had told him that he needed Draco around, that it was only Draco keeping him sane, only Draco who never asked anything of him. That night Draco nearly cried at the pain of the turmoil inside. Yielding to Harry felt so right and yet his Father still asked for news and Draco knew the Dark Lord was watching him always.

The year had passed and slowly the confusion started to pass. With Harry by his side Draco had felt so whole. In Harry's arms at night there were no more nightmares, no more questions. He passed on false information or no information at all and felt only the slightest of qualms at this. The day had drawn closer and closer that would bring everything to an end and Draco had started to believe there was a future beyond it with Harry. As they had parted on the night before the battle there was no more doubt in his mind.

Narcissa was one of the first casualties. Draco watched her be cut down in the first skirmish, he knew she was no Death Eater; he knew she was merely a dedicated wife and he had told Harry so but that hadn't saved her. As she fell Draco's certainties fell with her. Harry hadn't listened. Harry hadn't cared. Suddenly memories returned to him, the same man who had just allowed his Mother to die had put his Father in prison. Lucius had returned a changed man; Potter had destroyed his life. Potter's friends had laughed at him. He'd been cursed so many times by that group of laughing imbeciles. Draco realised Harry had never once apologised, never once explained. He'd never expressed sorrow at Draco's lost family or friends.

What do you do when you realise every choice you have ever made has brought you to a dead end? They were never really choices anyway, not really. He had never made a true choice, knowing the facts, making an honest decision. He stood amongst the Death Eaters that had survived the fight and watched as Lord Voldemort approached the crouching figure of Harry Potter. Could he abandon the man he loved to his fate? Could he turn against the Dark Lord? Caught in the trap of his own lies Draco could no longer see the truth, he tried clinging to the peace he had found by Harry's side but it was cancelled by the hours spent at his Father's side. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. As the greatest Battle in wizarding history raged around him, Draco Malfoy stood paralysed, unable to distinguish the truth from the lies.