Draco By Trial

I could use a fresh beginning too,

All of my regrets are nothing new.

Switchfoot - Learning to Breathe

The Potions classroom was icy-cold this morning. It was mid-November and the days were short and cold and dry, and the coldest place in the castle was the dungeons. Draco entered the classroom early with his head down, wishing that he was still in bed. He sighed with relief when he noticed that he was the first person to arrive. Moving quickly to a desk near the back, he sat down and began to unpack his things. Other students began to trudge into the room; he tried to ignore the blatant glaring from the Slytherins, feigning indifference, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

Then, Potter entered, laughing at something Weasley had said, and immediately caught Draco's eye. Potter has an interesting laugh; it lands half-way between a light chuckle and an all-out belly laugh. Draco was entranced almost, by the carefree way that Potter walked and the simplicity to him. He seemed so natural and honest, and Draco found it almost painful to see how every thought the boy had was painted on his face. He looked away, not wanting to be caught staring, but found that he had nowhere else to look; every other person his eyes landed on would look at him with a look of either hate or repugnance. It felt like daggers being repeatedly stabbed into every inch of his body.

Snape entered the classroom, robes billowing, and Draco let his eyes fall to his hands which were folded neatly in front of him.

"Malfoy," a voice hissed from behind him as soon as Snape turned to write the ingredients for a mild levitation potion on the blackboard. Draco turned quickly, startled, and found a pair of deep green eyes very close to his. Potter was leaning over his desk which was directly behind Draco's, with a mischievous grin on his face.

"What?" Draco whispered back. Potter leaned closer, attempting, and failing, to be surreptitious. The Weasel was giving them extremely odd looks, but Potter didn't seem to notice. Either that or he didn't care.

"What're you doing tonight?" Draco paused for a second, before raising an eyebrow.

"Let's see, I'll have to just check my social calendar...well, oh look, nothing you idiot!" Potter's grin widened and he ignored the sarcasm.

"Good!" he said briskly. "Meet me in the entrance hall at 10:30 tonight. Make sure nobody sees you." With that said, he slid back into his chair and turned to talk to Granger.

"What? Why-" but he couldn't ask, because Snape had cleared his throat and begun the lesson. Draco let his teacher's voice flow over him as he began to wonder what Potter could possibly have planned. He found that he was smiling secretly to himself as he thought that anything would be better than moping around in his room again.

*

It was pitch black as Draco made his way stealthily towards the entrance hall. Having recently given up his position as prefect, he now had no excuse to be wandering the halls after hours and losing house points was the last thing he needed right now; he needed to be careful. He had spent hours debating whether or not he should go, it was against his better judgement; why should he even trust Potter? But something he didn't really want to acknowledge had him wondering the halls that night; he was afraid that it was hope.

There was no-one there when he arrived so he hid in the shadows, resolved to wait only for ten minutes. He didn't have to wait longer than five.

He heard voices approaching from the staircase he knew led to the Gryffindor dorms, and slunk further into the shadows. He saw the silhouettes of Potter, Weasley, Finnegan, Thomas and Longbottom appear. They seemed to be arguing about something.

"Really Harry, who've you told? You know this was supposed to be a secret," came Finnigan's voice.

"Oh right," Potter said sarcastically, "and you kept it quiet from Terry Boot and all the other Ravenclaws you were boasting to?"

"Well it's not as though he actually invited them," Thomas muttered. Draco felt his heart begin to sink. Maybe this hadn't been the best of ideas.

"Where is he anyway?" Weasley asked quietly.

"I dunno," Potter said uncertainly. "I told him to meet us here." Draco took this as his cue to appear, and he stepped slowly from his hiding place into the moonlight.

*

"So how was this friendship between you and Mr Potter solidified?" Fudge asked curtly. Draco smirked, imagining what thoughts were going through Fudge's mind and thinking that he probably wasn't even close.

"Nothing was ever solidified, as you put it. At the beginning, it was just something that had potential."

"And after that?"

"It was something that reached its potential."

*

The Gryffindors froze as soon as they saw him; only Potter smiled. Draco thought he looked almost relieved, or maybe vindicated was a better word for the look on his face.

"Ah shit, what are you doing skulking around here Malfoy?" Weasley hissed.

"I could ask you the same thing," Draco said smoothly, moving further out of the shadows.

"Well from what I hear," Weasley said, a nasty smile spreading across his face, "you no longer have the right to ask me that." Draco was about to retort when Potter approached him, still smiling.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," he said quietly. Draco smiled, before catching himself and rearranging his features.

"Well," he said, attempting to appear casual, "I didn't have much else on, and I must say you definitely piqued my interest."

The other boys were staring at them as though they were insane. Weasley, the first to fully understand, grabbed onto Potter's arm and yanked him backwards.

"I don't suppose you'd like to explain this?" he asked, trying and singularly failing to keep his voice steady.

"Well, I invited him," Potter said, a bright and hopeful grin pasted on his face.

"Him? The Ferret?! This is who you invited?"

"Shush Ron," Potter said, his smile fading quickly, "you're making too much noise. You don't want us to get caught do you?" Weasley didn't seem to register his words.

"You...you...why?" he spluttered, almost incoherent.

"Because I wanted to. Live with it Ron, he's coming," Potter stated firmly. Draco allowed himself to smile smugly. "Do the rest of you have a problem with this?" Potter challenged the others with a glare. They clearly had a rather large problem with it, but decided against saying anything.

"Good. Let's go."

Weasley joined the other Gryffindors as they walked outside, and Draco fell into step next to Potter. As the cold air hit his face, Draco looked around and suppressed a gasp. Sometime during the evening, the first snow had fallen and the Hogwarts grounds were now cloaked in a blanket of soft, unbroken white. Moonlight glistened off of millions of snowflakes, creating the special brand of magic that belonged solely to nature. Draco had never quite gotten used to how Hogwarts looked in winter.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Potter said softly, looking around him.

"Yes," Draco breathed, and then, remembering who he was with, added in a much harsher voice, "if you like that kind of thing." Potter chuckled lightly.

"You don't fool me Malfoy."

Draco chose to ignore this and they carried on walking. It was then that Draco noticed that Potter was holding something under his arm.

"So what are we doing out here Potter?"

"Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. Here, this is for you." Potter thrust whatever he'd been holding into Draco's hands. "Forgot to tell you to bring one." Draco looked at what he was now holding.

"A towel? What do I need a towel for?"

"We're going swimming in the lake," Potter said. Draco stopped walking abruptly.

"What?"

"You heard."

"But Potter, it's November! It just snowed! We'll freeze to death!" Draco tried to sound reasonable, but a hint of fear crept into his voice.

"No, we won't. Trust me." Draco frowned.

"I don't have anything to swim in!"

"You won't need anything."

"You're insane," Draco muttered sullenly.

"Well what does that make you for being here?"

"Stupid. Very, very stupid," Draco said simply. Potter laughed loudly this time, making the other Gryffindors look back at them with confusion. Draco really didn't blame them.

"Come on. Hurry up and all will be revealed." With that, Potter jogged to where his friends had stopped at the lakeside. Draco sighed and followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering for the fiftieth time what he was doing outside at this time of night, with a bunch of Gryffindors no less.

The five Gryffindors had all dropped their towels to the ground and were standing in a line at the bank by the time Draco reached them. They all had their wands out but appeared uncertain as to how to proceed. They were still giving him extremely suspicious looks, and Draco snorted.

"OK," he said, breaking the silence. "So, who's going to tell me what we're doing here?"

"We've learnt a new spell," Potter said, apparently he was the only one willing to talk to Draco. "It's a variation on a warming spell."

"You're not telling me you're going to try to artificially heat the entire lake?" Draco sneered incredulously. "That's impossible! It's too big!"

"Not the whole lake," Weasley snapped, "just part of it." Draco didn't know what to say. 'How the hell do you do that?' he thought.

"Just watch," Potter said quietly, raising his wand. The others followed suit.

"Urm, have you ever actually done this before?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Nope," Finnegan said. "We've been working on it for years. This is the first time we've actually tried to do it. It was supposed to be a secret." He gave Potter a pointed look, who completely ignored him. Draco decided at that point that it would be prudent to take a rather large step backwards away from the water.

"Let's get on with it, I'm freezing." Potter closed his eyes briefly, then opened then again and stared across the lake.

"Heat," he said.

"Fire," said Weasley.

"Warmth," said Finnegan.

"Blaze," said Thomas.

"Burn," said Longbottom.

In unison they said:

"Partitia incendia augmentus." Orange light burst forth from each wand, bathing them in warm light. Each beam hit the icy water and seemed to be soaked into the darkness of its depths; Draco had to peer around from behind Potter to see what was going on. As the spell was completed the light faded and Draco felt more aware of the bitter coldness that surrounded him without it.

"Well?" Longbottom asked eagerly. "Did it work?" He leaned forwards, closer towards the water, as if he would be able to see a difference.

"Only one way to find out!" Finnegan announced, and promptly pushed him in. Longbottom fell headfirst, fully clothed, into the water. He surfaced, spluttering and waving his arms about.

"You idiot! I've still got all my clothes on!" he yelled at Finnegan, who was currently rolling around in the snow in fits of giggles.

"Well?" Thomas asked eagerly. "Did it work?"

"It's a bit cold further down, but near the surface...it's wonderful." All of the boys grinned and laughed and began stripping their clothes off.

Draco held back, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Malfoy?" Potter approached him. "Are you coming in?" Draco looked at him for a long moment, wondering exactly what Potter was trying to achieve by showing him this; this private moment he was sharing with his closest friends. What was the point of this? As Draco felt a shiver run through him, he decided he didn't really care because he was too cold.

"Naturally," he said smoothly. Potter smiled; that same smile Draco had noticed earlier, as though he was pleased and had been proved right in some way.

Draco peeled his clothes away easily, shivering as the frigid air hit his bare skin. The other boys had run yelling and screeching into the water, clearly uninhibited by their nakedness, and Draco tried to show the same openness as them, by walking slowly and surely into the depths of the surprisingly warm water until it covered him to his waist.

He immediately looked for where Potter was, and saw him dunking Weasley's head into the water, laughing wildly. He took a moment to inspect Potter's body, as the boy played with his friends. He had the slightly awkward look to him of someone who had grown a lot in a very short space of time; almost as though he'd been stretched a bit too far. He was thin, but not horribly so; the term slender came to mind. He had slight tan marks on his arms and neck, which Draco noticed contrasted starkly with the overall paleness of his own skin, which never tanned, only burnt painfully and therefore made him shy away from the sun. Draco could understand why Potter had no qualms about frolicking naked in the water; he was an interesting specimen, Longbottom on the other hand...He had every right to show the slight insecurities about his body that he clearly had.

Draco was very aware of how awkward his presence could make this, especially if he reacted to it in the way he was expected. He considered this, thought about reverting to his usual taunts which, in his mind, never got boring or repetitive, but found that it seemed inappropriate here. Instead, he decided to accept this opportunity that Potter had offered him in the spirit he considered it was probably intended. He took this as a chance to relax; to forget, if even briefly, that everybody hated him and that he'd driven away everyone who could conceivably care about his well-being. He lay back in the water, letting it buoy him up as he floated languorously on his back. He let the water flow into his ears, so that the sounds of the Gryffindors were muffled, and closed his eyes. He allowed his mind to float away from Hogwarts, away from his father and away from magic.

He was therefore completely unprepared for the wholly unprovoked attack on his being that was Potter pushing his head under the water and upsetting his balance. He rose from the water, blond hair partially blocking his view as it flopped into his eyes, to find an almost hysterically laughing Potter in front of him.

"Oh so you think that was funny do you?" he growled.

"A bit, but the expression on your face is priceless!" Potter managed to choke out. Draco fought a smile as he launched himself at him, managing to thoroughly dunk Potter before he wrenched away, spluttering and giggling like a girl.

"Ha!" Draco exclaimed triumphantly. "Got you back!"

"Only cos I let you!" Potter called as he moved away back to his friends, continuing to giggle. Draco scowled, then resumed his floating. It was a very surreal feeling, to see his breath ghosting into the air, knowing that he was surrounded by ice and snow, whilst swimming in pleasantly tepid water. It was strangely liberating. A few minutes later however, he felt the water around him growing considerably colder, and he realised he must have reached the limits of the spell. With a sigh he lifted his head and turned to make his way back to the edge.

It was at this point that he realised that there was considerably less hilarity amongst Potter's friends than before. Potter and Weasley seemed to be arguing heatedly about something, and the others were backing away from them, looking concerned and occasionally sending Draco spiteful looks.

"You have no idea what's happened Harry!" Weasley's voice carried over to where Draco was.

"Well neither do you!" Potter almost yelled, before catching himself.

"I just want to know why he's here."

"I felt sorry for him OK? Isn't that enough?" Potter snapped and then made his way over to where Draco was treading water and glaring. "What?" he asked irritably.

"You felt sorry for me Potter? You felt sorry for me?" Draco asked incredulously, suddenly feeling very foolish for being there.

"No, well, a bit," Potter admitted.

"I don't need your pity," Draco said scathingly and turned to leave.

"No, wait. I don't want you to go." Draco turned back to face him, and looked at Potter. His hair was plastered to his head and his smooth, tanned chest was rising and falling quickly with every breath. There was an innate imperfection to Potter, as though all the right ingredients were there, but they'd just been mixed in the wrong order. Draco found that he was staring again. He watched goosebumps start to rise on the skin that was exposed to the air, and began to shiver himself as he became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was naked.

"What am I doing here Potter?" he asked quietly, for some reason not wanting to be overheard. He vaguely registered the sounds of other people behind him; laughter and the occasional loud splash, but it ceased to really mean anything.

"I asked you to come," Potter said simply, avoiding Draco's eyes. This made him suspicious.

"Yes, and I want to know why. You sought me out, pestered me to talk to you, and now you brought me out here to witness, what? What is this?"

"It's..." Potter finally raised his eyes to Draco's and smiled sheepishly. "It's an offering."

"An offering?"

"Yep. Yes. That's exactly what it is." Potter seemed to be warming up to the idea.

"Potter? Are you...are you asking to be my friend?" Something had finally clicked in Draco's mind. All of this, being brought out here to see this new and special experience; Potter really had the subtlety of a brick. Draco conveniently ignored the voice in his head which pointed out that it really shouldn't have taken him so long to work it out.

"No," Potter said, slightly too quickly. "It's more that I'm asking you to think about the possibility of possibly...learning to tolerate each other?" Draco stared at him for a long time, considering. Then he tilted his head and smirked.

"Nicely put Potter." They stared at each other, assessing, and Draco finally felt the world come back into focus around him.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"I think the spell's wearing off."

"Yeah, so do I."

*

They walked back in relative silence. Weasley didn't appear to be talking to Potter, and the other Gryffindors seemed to think that he was vindicated in this. Potter didn't appear to notice, as he walked beside Draco again.

As they re-entered the entrance hall, Draco handed back the towel that Potter had leant him. He'd refrained from complaining about the fact that it was red and gold. They hung back from the others, momentarily feeling awkward.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow Malfoy?"

"Yes," Draco said, "you will." Potter looked at him briefly, and ventured a nervous smile, Draco raised an eyebrow and merely smirked. They turned to leave in opposite directions. Draco watched Potter rejoin his friends, who were being extremely cold towards him, and was struck by the enormity of what Potter had done that evening; of what it must have taken for Potter to invite him.

"Potter?" he called out. He turned quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

*

Fudge checked his watch and sighed.

"The Veritaserum will be beginning to wear off now. I suggest we have a break for lunch before continuing."

With that, the chains binding Draco fell away and he was ushered firmly from the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger gently restraining Weasley who had risen from his seat and was straining to run to the front. Tears of anger were spilling from his eyes.

*

Draco was deposited in a small, square room with no windows and barely any light by his guards a few minutes later. There was a solitary chair and a desk in the middle of it. He sat on the table, resting his feet on the chair, and sighed, looking gloomily around him. He absent-mindedly reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. One of the few small pleasures he was not forbidden from these days. He was very tired, and it was only lunchtime. He hadn't even gotten to the hard part of his story yet. He inhaled deeply and sighed, exhaling a long plume of smoke.

Draco wasn't left alone with his thoughts for very long, as Snape stomped grumpily into the room and slammed the door.

"Oh, do come in," Draco muttered sarcastically.

"Good afternoon Draco. How are you?" Snape asked briskly.

"Just fabulous professor. Fabulous." Snape began to pace the room slowly without saying anything else.

"Was there something you wanted professor?" Draco asked tiredly. "Because if it wasn't anything specific I'd rather appreciate it if-"

"Damn it Draco! How can you be so flippant?" Snape snapped. Draco was slightly taken aback by the ferocity in his teacher's voice.

"Well, I, well, do you have any particular suggestions for how I should be acting?"

"You should at least show some kind of remorse! It looks as though you're just begging to be locked away for the rest of your life out there! Is that what you want?" Draco stared at his teacher, willing himself to think up a smart answer which would help him to avoid the question, but he couldn't.

"Yes," he said quietly. "It's no more than I deserve." Snape stopped pacing abruptly and came to stand in front of Draco. He placed his hands on Draco's shoulders, who looked up with a pitiful expression.

"Draco," Snape began, "you're not a murderer; at least not the cold-blooded killer they're trying to make you out to be. What happened?"

"Sir, the evidence is pretty conclusive isn't it? I was the only one left standing, with three bodies nearby and only one of them was breathing! My fingerprints, spells cast from my wand...blood on my hands," Draco finished faintly.

"Draco? Draco?" Snape sounded worried and he shook him slightly. "Why won't you tell me?" Draco shrugged Snape's hands off and stood. He took another deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly.

"He ruined me professor. It doesn't matter what really happened."

"What do you mean, 'what really happened'? Draco? What aren't you telling me?" Snape appeared beyond worried, he was almost pleading. Draco turned cold eyes towards his teacher.

"Nothing matters. He's ruined me for everyone else, and now he's gone."

"He's not dead Draco," Snape said softly. Draco gave a plaintive sigh.

"But as good as. And I did that. I did that!"

"Yes, you did." Snape stood for a moment longer and then appeared to give up; turning to leave. His hand was on the door-knob when Draco said:

"I need your help."

"What?" Snape asked warily.

"They're going to lock me up and throw away the key when I've finished here." Draco was talking quickly and Snape opened his mouth as though to interrupt. Draco held up his hand to stop him and carried on. "I need to see him one last time."

"Draco-"

"Please. Just once." Draco was not beneath begging now.

"What's the point? He won't know you're there."

"Maybe not, but I will." Snape hesitated, then sighed heavily.

"I'll see what I can do. I think Dumbledore is sympathetic for some unknown reason, he may have some sway. But you did try to kill the boy."

"He's not a boy," Draco said softly.

"What? You saw to that too?" Snape said without thinking.

"One of these days, you'll be so sharp with one of those comebacks you'll cut yourself," Draco said, smiling wanly.

"Maybe," Snape chuckled, noticing the lack of a proper answer, but not wanting to press.

"Thank you," Draco said sincerely.