Draco By Trial

I want to heal

I want to feel

Like I'm close to something real

I want to find something I've wanted all along

Somewhere I belong.

Linkin Park - Somewhere I Belong

It was lunchtime in the Great Hall, and Draco had a plan. He sat quietly, concentrating on not eating too quickly, and tried not to grin. His plan was stupid, irresponsible, badly planned, but simple. It couldn't fail. He glanced quickly over at the Gryffindor table where Potter and his friends had just arrived. Granger was talking animatedly about something, waving her arms around to demonstrate her point. Weasley had to keep ducking.

For a moment, Draco felt a stab of something akin to jealousy as he watched them. They would always be better friends to Potter; they had more in common with him, were friendlier, nicer. The three of them shared an unbreakable bond of friendship, born from experiences, hardships, and pain shared. It was something that he couldn't possibly match.

Then, Draco remembered all of the time he'd spent with Potter over the past few weeks, and his insecurities faded slightly. Not one of those times had Potter brought Weasley or Granger with him. It troubled Draco slightly that this made him feel special. He was all too aware of the advantage Potter had over him; Draco had been terribly lonely without his Slytherin friends, and Potter had seen this and swooped in to save him as though he was some damsel in distress. Now, Draco was afraid that he was becoming dependent on him; dependent on being near him, hearing his voice, on knowing that it was him Potter had chosen to spend his time with. It was a dangerous position for Draco to be in, because Potter didn't need him in the way that Draco did, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

Draco shook his head, and reminded himself of The Plan. His spirits began to rise again. He finished eating and stood slowly, collecting his things and taking a deep breath. It was time for Phase 1: get Potter.

He sauntered casually over to the Gryffindor table.

"Potter!" Almost the entire table stopped and stared at him. Potter looked up and smiled apprehensively.

"Hi Draco."

"Potter, will you come with me? I've got something to show you." Potter's eyebrows rose, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. 'Aha! Got your attention then?'

"Sure," he said brightly, rising from his seat. Weasley was looking between them, slightly confused by the ease with which they were talking to each other.

"Harry? We've got Divination in five minutes. Do you remember?" he asked uncertainly.

"Sure Ron," Potter said easily. "Don't worry, I'll meet you there." Weasley looked perturbed and slightly hurt, but said nothing more. Draco, whose attention was focussed solely on Potter as he congratulated himself on the successful completion of Phase 1, didn't notice as Granger rose slowly from her seat.

"Harry? Are you sure?" She was looking evenly at Draco, who finally noticed her and returned her gaze. "Do you want us to go with you?"

In Draco's opinion, Potter's reaction was slightly over the top, which led him to think that he might be missing something. He slammed his bag on the table, sending bits of food flying, and glared at her.

"Hermione! We've talked about this. Now just leave us alone!" Potter had raised his voice, and Draco sensed a hush fall over the hall. He began to think that maybe he should have just waited until Potter had left the hall and grabbed him then.

Weasley stood quickly, and took his place next to Granger.

"Harry, there's no need to talk to her like that. She only has your best interests at heart." His tone was placating, but there was a warning underneath.

"Meddling you mean!" Potter retorted, his hands gripping the straps of his bag convulsively. "How would she know what's in my 'best interests'?" Potter and Weasley were glowering at each other, but Granger hadn't taken her eyes off of Draco. She leant closer to him, and Draco instinctively leant back, suddenly forcefully reminded of her slapping him two years ago and desperate not to relive the experience.

"I don't trust you," she whispered, her voice level. "I don't know what you think you're doing, or what mind games you're playing, but I want you to stay away from Harry." Draco smirked, then leant back towards her.

"Why Mudblood? Jealous?" She gave him a disgusted look, then turned away. Draco felt a hand on his arm and turned to find Potter next to him. Weasley had re-taken his seat and was looking sullenly into his plate.

"Nice to know I'm welcome wherever I go," Draco said, without a trace of a smile.

"Come on, let's go before we make an even bigger spectacle of ourselves," Potter said quietly.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?"

"Later."

*

They made it as far as the door before they were stopped again. Vince and Greg were blocking their way through. Draco sighed, 'why does everyone have to make this so difficult?' He made to push past, but neither of the boys would move. He admitted defeat and stood back, waiting for the inevitable.

"What're you doing with him Draco?" Greg asked, glaring menacingly.

"None of your damn business," Draco snapped. "Now get out of our way." They were making him edgy.

"No," Vince said stubbornly.

"No?" Draco asked incredulously. "What are you, five?" He heard Potter sniggering behind him. Vince's brow furrowed.

"I don't understand," he said slowly, "why you'd have anything to say to him. You always used to say he was-"

"Yeah, well there always were a lot of things you didn't understand," Draco said, hastily cutting him off. He noticed that Potter had stopped laughing abruptly.

"What did you used to say about me?"

"A lot of things, and most of them true." Draco turned and flashed a bright smile at Potter, who frowned. Draco's smile faded quickly and was replaced by a scowl when he saw who was standing behind Potter.

"Oh for God's sake," he muttered grumpily. "Did you all have to pick today? I didn't even get past Phase 1." Potter gave him an odd look, and then burst into more fits of barely suppressed sniggering.

"Hello Draco," Blaise said smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling maliciously. Potter's head snapped round at the sound of his voice and glared, all traces of humour lost from his face. "Well it's just one thing after another with you isn't it?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Draco asked warily.

"It seems to be an unfortunate habit of yours, saying one thing then doing another. I seem to remember you having some less than complimentary things to say about Potter here, last time we spoke. And now, here you are, together."

"Yes, well, things change Blaise," Draco snapped sarcastically. "Sometimes our choices are made for us."

"As I remember it Draco, you made your own choice. Regretting it now are you?" Blaise was smirking, and Draco felt the undeniable urge to wipe it from his face. However, he wasn't given the chance because Potter stepped in first. With his hands clenched into fists at his side, he took a step closer to Blaise.

"Go. Away," he said, very quietly. Blaise actually laughed at him.

"Down boy! Draco, call off your pet." Draco grabbed Potter's arm before it could connect with Blaise's face and whirled him around.

"Harry, leave it. Please. You know it's not worth it." Potter stared at Draco for a long time, before relaxing his stance.

"First time you ever called me Harry," he murmured. Draco smiled slightly, and then turned his attention back to Blaise.

"Bugger off Blaise. Can't you tell when you've out-stayed your welcome?" With that he turned and pushed past an unresisting Vince and Greg with Potter following close behind.

"Finally!" he exclaimed once they'd reached the entrance hall. "I thought we'd never get out of there!"

"You're telling me! This had better be good after all that Draco." It was time for the second and final phase of the plan. Simplicity is always best.

"Ah, well, you see, I think you've been an extremely bad influence on me," Draco said seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Well dragging me out every night when I should be working, taking me out of bounds. I hope you realise the nose-dive my grades have taken in the past month. Anyway, I'm not complaining, much, I actually think you've inspired me." Draco grinned evilly and Potter appeared be slightly scared.

"Urm, inspired you to do what Draco?" he asked hesitantly.

"This afternoon, my dearest Potty, we're skipping class," Draco announced with a flourish. Potter stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing again.

"That's it? We went through all that in there just so you didn't have to skip History of Magic by yourself?"

"Well, technically. Look, you don't want to go to Divination do you?"

"Hell no," Potter said quickly. "Firenze may be better than Trelawney, but not by much! They're both a bit too weird for my liking."

"Well stop laughing then! I thought we could sneak into Hogsmeade and get drunk. Every Hogwarts student has to do that at least once in their school career, I heard that somewhere. Kind of like a rite of passage."

"Oh, I should probably go and tell Ron I'm not coming then, he might worry." Potter turned to go, but Draco pulled him back, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"Potter, I don't think it works if you actually tell people you're going to do it. It's supposed to be spontaneous." Potter raised an eyebrow, an expression he'd blatantly stolen from Draco.

"Spontaneous? You planned this! You had specific phases! Don't think I didn't hear you muttering to yourself." Draco dropped his hands and scowled.

"Shut up. We can't all be Mr Spontaneity."

"Whatever. Ok forget Ron, but I think we should get moving. Everyone else will be coming out of the hall soon."

"Ah yes, I thought this far ahead! Come on, there's a cupboard over here, we should hide." Draco dragged Potter over to the broom cupboard and pushed him inside. Once he'd closed the door, he turned to look at Potter who was sitting on an upturned bucket.

"Now, all we have to do is wait. Shouldn't be long!"

*

"So whilst we're here, all alone, do you want to tell me what that was all about in there?" Draco slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his arms draped over his knees. Potter had taken the only thing to sit on that wasn't the floor.

"Nothing," Potter mumbled, shifting his feet around and refusing to look Draco in the eye. It was very cramped in the cupboard and when Potter stopped moving his feet, his ankle was pressing against Draco's. It felt very comfortable; natural.

"Right," Draco said slowly. Potter sighed and turned his head sideways to look at the wall.

"They don't like me spending so much time with you. They don't trust you." Draco stiffened and shifted his feet away. He'd expected this much.

"Do you?" he asked, trying to sound neutral. Potter turned his head back to look at him, but didn't say anything. The silence stretched out between them, getting thicker by the second. Draco fidgeted incessantly under Potter's gaze until he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Fine. I understand," he said curtly, beginning to struggle to his feet, fighting the blush that threatened to rise in his cheeks. This was so intensely embarrassing. He knew Potter had no reason to trust him, he'd done nothing that could make up for all he'd said and done, and he didn't want to. He would make no apologies for who he was, not to his housemates and certainly not to Harry Potter. They were so different, but he'd thought...well it didn't matter now.

"No, wait." Potter reached out a hand and touched Draco's knee. Draco immediately returned to the floor, looking up at him. "I do trust you. It's just..."

"It's just what Potter?" Draco asked harshly. He suddenly felt very angry.

"It's just that they brought up some good points. They just made me think more about what we're doing."

"What's there to think about?"

"Well, we're so different you know? For a start, you're a complete dork." Draco let it go, but gave a grinning Potter a warning look. "We think differently Draco. I mean, how can we be friends when we're always going to be at odds with each other? About everything!"

"It hasn't come up yet. It's not important."

"But it is important, and it will come up one day, probably sooner than either of us want."

"I'm not going to apologise for who I am."

"I don't want you to."

They lapsed into silence once more. In the background, Draco was aware of the sounds of the rest of the school, students flooding out of the hall as they headed to their afternoon lessons.

"Look, now's not the time for this. I need to have had a lot of alcohol to have this conversation." Potter's face broke into a genuine, if slightly relieved, smile.

"Wish granted! Come on, I know a short cut."

"Why am I not surprised?"

*

They'd reached the third floor and Draco was about to start complaining, when Potter stopped him by holding an arm out at chest level.

"Shh, listen." Voices came drifting down the corridor and Draco froze.

"Oh shit, it's Snape!" he hissed. "What the hell is he doing up here? He'll kill me if he finds us!"

"You? What about me?" They looked at each other and both silently agreed. Run. They turned back the way they had come, but the voices were getting closer. It sounded like Snape had an entire class with him. They ran into the nearest empty classroom, slamming the door behind them and laughing wildly. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and felt the urge to scream 'FREEDOM!!' He was regaining his breath when terror struck once more. Snape's voice had stopped outside the door.

"This classroom should be empty. Hodges! Just what do you think you're doing? Come here right now."

Potter looked desperately at Draco and mouthed 'shit!' Draco looked around wildly and almost jumped for joy with a loud cackle when he saw a handy cupboard in the corner. He dragged Potter inside and slammed the door shut. They both fell to the floor laughing as Snape entered the classroom.

Draco attempted to stifle his laughter by clamping his hand over his mouth. He turned his head, and there was Potter, his smiling face inches away, obviously also having difficulty with controlling his laughter. They shouldn't have been sitting so close. He should have jerked his head away, but he didn't. Potter lifted his eyes slowly to Draco's, all big and wide and sparkling. Draco was suddenly struck by just how green Potter's eyes were; this close to, it was almost frightening. His hand fell from his mouth as his grin faded and they stared at each other, chests rising and falling too quickly, and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. No thought seemed to go through his head, only a vague uneasiness because he knew he should look away, they should both look away, but he couldn't bear to just yet.

The sound of Snape's voice broke the spell, and Draco tore his eyes away. He grabbed his wand and muttered a locking spell as Potter moved further away.

"Great, another cupboard," Potter murmured. "Your plans are so well executed Draco."

"Shh!"

"Oh please. Silencio. There he won't hear us now even if we scream. Well it looks like we're stuck here. Fabulous." Draco glared and turned back to face Potter, who was once again slumped onto the only bucket.

"Oh no you don't," he said, hauling Potter up by the arm and sitting on the bucket. "You got the bucket last time."

*

"God I'm bored. How long have we been in here?"

"Twenty minutes," Draco said, checking his watch.

"I think I would've preferred Divination."

"Shut up."

"So much for rites of passage."

"Shut up."

"I'm still bored."

"You should feel honoured Potter. Not many people get to spend this much quality time with me," Draco said, smiling smugly.

"Shut up."

The cupboard was very small, and it had gotten stuffy extremely quickly. Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh sod it," he said grumpily, before standing up so he could take off his robes and sweater. "Stupid uniform." He sat back down and resumed counting the cracks in the wall that Potter was leaning on.

"I'm still bored."

"Only stupid people with no imagination get bored."

"Are you bored?" Draco glared at Potter and refused to say anything.

"Well pick a topic to talk about then."

"Ok, let's talk about you again," Potter said eagerly.

"As much as I enjoy talking about myself, I think it's your turn."

"Me? What about me? I thought everybody knew everything there was to know about me."

"Ah, not quite. Tell me Potter, who do you fancy?" Potter rolled his eyes, before blushing and looking away.

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"You were the one who was bored! Besides, this could be interesting." Draco allowed himself to grin evilly.

"Alright then, who do you fancy?" That shut Draco up quickly.

"Fine. No more immaturity." Potter smiled smugly, and then sighed loudly as they lapsed once more into silence.

"We could always talk about sex," Draco suggested hopefully, secretly enjoying the way that that comment made Potter blush even more. "No? Oh well." That seemed to exhaust Draco's conversational topics and, once more, only the sweet sounds of Snape shouting at second years filtered into the cupboard.

*

"What do you do every summer?" Potter sighed and leant his head backwards, closing his eyes and exposing his long neck in a completely vulnerable pose. All Draco would have to do was reach over and squeeze...

"Not a lot, I live with my muggle relatives. They're not particularly nice, and really not worth talking about."

"Sounds like your summers suck more than mine do." Draco had meant it to sound light-hearted, but instead it came out sounding curious.

"You have no idea."

"I always thought you'd spend your summers with Weasley."

"I used to go and visit him, but the last couple of years...well it's been difficult." Draco got the impression that he'd stumbled onto an awkward topic.

"Yes, I suppose it would've been." Draco didn't really want to push Potter any more, but he was intrigued.

"I think this last summer was the worst though, because of Sirius." The name of his godfather came out merely as a whisper. Draco cursed his curious nature and now found himself hoping that Potter wouldn't say any more. Draco realised that anything he brought up about Harry's life would eventually lead to Voldemort. He'd never thought about it before, but every single aspect of the boy's life had been touched by that man. Nothing was sacred.

*

"Are you afraid of dying?" Potter asked suddenly. His eyes were still closed.

'Ah, cheerful conversation then?' Draco thought glumly. This did not bode well for the rest of the time they had to spend together.

"Can't say I've thought about it much, what with only being sixteen. I take it you have."

"Well of course. More than usual lately," Potter said quietly.

"Really? Come to any conclusions?"

"Yeah, it scares the shit out of me." Draco nearly laughed.

"Understandably. It has that effect on most people."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not scared of dying as such. It's more that I'm scared of dying before I do everything I'm supposed to." Potter stood up, looking like he wanted to pace, before he remembered that he was stuck in a small cupboard and there was nowhere for him to go. He sat down again heavily.

"Everything you're supposed to?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm the wizarding world's only hope. It's my 'destiny'."

"Well I've been a bit out of the loop recently," Draco said faintly, unable to think of anything properly coherent to say that wouldn't sound trite or cliché.

For the first time, Draco looked properly at Potter, and saw just how tired he looked.

"Well, there's this prophecy. It's me or Voldemort basically."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I know."

"Not surprised death's been on your mind then."

"Hmm."

Draco didn't think that becoming friends with Potter had changed him at all; he'd consciously tried not to let it, but in that moment he realised just how much it had changed him. He remembered how scornful he had always been towards anyone who had looked to Potter with some semblance of hope; as though he was the only one who could save them. It had driven him mad, the general attitude that his peers had towards the boy. He'd hated that everything was always about Potter; he was the one everyone looked up to, he was the one to have great things expected of him.

Now, Draco found that his only reaction to hearing that Potter really was the only one who could beat Voldemort, was to wonder what that kind of pressure must feel like; to know that everybody is counting on you to succeed. It was the kind of thing that could destroy a person.

Draco realised that the only thing that had changed was his attitude towards Potter. He wasn't jealous of him anymore, he pitied him.

"I think that's partly why I wanted to be friends with you." Potter's words jerked Draco out of his reverie.

"What?"

"Well the idea of your own impending death makes you think."

"Well it would. And it's hardly 'impending'; you must have oh, what, a fifty-fifty chance?" Draco joked, attempting to make light of the situation. A brief smile flitted across Potter's face but it faded quickly.

"If that. Anyway, I had a lot of time to think over the summer. At first I was angry, afraid; scared of my own shadow. I felt guilty about Sirius' death too. Voldemort had been in my head, in my fucking head, and I'd done nothing to stop him." Potter was rambling now, and Draco didn't have the heart to interrupt.

"It's very tiring, feeling that helpless all the time you know. I got sick of it; sick of being scared. When you're afraid to go out the front door, you're not really living, you're just existing. So I made a choice. I decided that if I was going to die, it wouldn't be cowering away in the shadows."

"How very Gryffindor of you," Draco couldn't resist saying, and was rewarded with a true smile this time.

"Naturally. I decided to make the best of the time I have."

"So you decided to accost me and force your friendship on me because...?"

"Ha ha. I don't have time for petty rivalries Draco. It's a waste of your energy and mine. Besides, who else was going to save you from having to spend all of your time with Crabbe and Goyle? I mean, seriously, you can do so much better." Potter finally looked Draco in the eye and smiled.

'I think I might have,'Draco thought numbly. He'd never known what it was to have a close friendship, where trust would never be an issue, and he'd certainly not expected to find it in Harry Potter. It was odd, and wrong, in so many ways, but somehow it had happened. Potter trusted him. Draco hadn't asked for any of this; he hadn't asked for friendship or sympathy, and he hadn't expected it, but it had taken him by the scruff of the neck and forced itself upon him.

He thought about Potter forcing him to talk about his problems with the Slytherins, he thought about Potter fighting with his friends over him, he thought about Potter sticking up for him in front of Blaise, and he thought about Potter's smiling face, inches away, so close he could feel his breath. He was suddenly very sure that this was something he didn't want to lose, and also that it was time he started giving something back.

"Are you still afraid?" he asked quietly. Potter looked him straight in the eye and said:

"Every second of every day."

*

"I tried to get him to skip lessons and go to Hogsmeade with me once. It didn't quite work though. We ended up spending the afternoon hiding in a cupboard from Professor Snape. By the time we could get out, it was dinner time and was too late for us to go. I left most of the planning to him after that." Draco smiled wanly at the memory; a sad smile as he remembered better times. He was only just beginning to comprehend how personal this trial could potentially become, and there was very little he could do about it.