Battlefields Part 6
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: R
Category: drama
Notes: Takes place during the war. Thanks to Roses and Lola for beta help and encouragement.
Feedback: Yes please, that would be very nice.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. These characters belong to JK Rowling. I'm just playing.
Summary: War changes you.
They had moved. It happened quickly and late one night. Draco was sound asleep when Potter shook him awake and told him to get dressed. Without another word, Potter had tossed together a rucksack stuffed with his belongings and ordered Draco to do the same. They'd moved out that night under cover of darkness, both silent. Draco was too groggy and too startled to even want to ask what was happening.
They moved into the Muggle world and took up residence in a small, unassuming flat in Muggle London. Potter and Granger had thought that since the attempt on Draco's life, it was best to move away from a known location. Unfortunately, this place was much too cramped for two. It was a one bedroom flat on the third floor of an unassuming building on an unassuming street. Potter seemed convinced nobody would ever think to look there.
Draco had slept that first night on the sofa in the small living room. Potter had slept in the bedroom. Potter had still appeared exhausted the next morning when he had finally dragged himself out of bed at two in the afternoon. He worked for a few hours on setting up detection spells. Potter had mastered silent spell casting. He never uttered a word the whole time he waved his wand. His intense gaze never broke as he swished and stroked.
There wasn't much to the new place. It was sparsely furnished with barely stocked cupboards. There was nothing to do and nowhere to go. In such close quarters, there was no way for the two of them to avoid each other. At least Potter could leave. Draco was trapped. As relieved as he was to be out of prison, this had just become another form of imprisonment. After all, Potter did have a job, though when Draco had asked what exactly Potter did for a living, Potter refused to answered the question. He'd just glared and told Draco not to leave the flat for any reason.
A week went by and Potter still hadn't said a thing about the attempt on Draco's life. Draco was going mad thinking about who and how and what was going on. He finally screwed up the courage to corner Potter one evening just as Potter had returned from one of his outings. Potter looked exhausted and Draco thought that would be the perfect time to settle this.
Potter was not in the mood.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," he growled as he marched past Draco on his way to the bedroom.
"They must be looking," Draco said pathetically. He wasn't sure what else to say.
"Nobody's looking," Potter mumbled. He paused just outside the door, hand resting on the door knob of the bedroom.
"But they must know now that I'm with you," Draco said. Potter turned round sharply and marched up to Draco, shoving his face in Draco's. Draco flinched at the anger in his eyes.
"Nobody's looking, you self-centred, spoilt prat," Potter growled ferociously. "Maybe it was one of your people." He stepped closer forcing Draco to back away. "Maybe it was a Death Eater bent on ending your sorry life."
Draco flinched and looked away. He regretted ever bringing up the subject. Now all he wanted was to escape, but Potter had crowded him into a corner. Draco was trapped like some animal. Potter stood staring him down, unblinking. He was close enough for Draco to see the light green specks in his irises. Without another word, Potter turned and stalked into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
~
It had been over a week since they'd changed location. Granger hadn't visited since he and Potter had settled into the new flat. Potter was constantly going out to run one errand or another, leaving Draco alone most times. That suited Draco just fine until the loneliness had set in. He hadn't even ventured to turn on that box in the living room. Potter had said it was called a telly. Draco hadn't seen anything like it before, but he felt much too self-conscious to ask Potter why Muggles would want a box with a smooth front in their living room.
Tonight Potter returned with a paper bag of warm, greasy fish and chips. Draco set the kitchen table in silence. He had got plates and forks for the both of them, though Potter didn't bother to use either. He tore the bag open and dropped half the contents in Draco's plate then set the greasy bag down on his own plate. He hadn't said one word since coming through the front door. Draco watched as Potter sat and stared blankly while he chewed the same piece of fish for ages.
Draco poured them each a steaming cup of tea and cleared his throat.
"Where's Granger?" he asked, thinking perhaps he should have first asked how Potter was doing, even if it was plain that Potter did not look well.
"She's at St. Mungo's," Potter said barely looking in Draco's direction. He picked up a chip and slowly raised it to his oily lips.
Draco swallowed hard around the chip he'd just bit into. "What's wrong with her?"
When Potter finally did look up, his gaze was tired and worn-out. It seemed to Draco that Potter always looked on the brink of collapse.
"They think she's barmy for championing your cause," he said coldly.
Granger was championing his cause? This was new information. She hadn't just broken him free from that hellish prison. She was also trying to reason with the rest of the Wizarding world.
Potter wrapped his fingers around his last chip. Draco watched as Potter pinched the chip with a short, dirty nail. He followed the chip as Potter popped it between his lips and smacked his lips.
Potter sighed and leaned back against the wall, tilting his chair. "She's in for memory recovery treatment."
Draco froze and dropped the chip he'd been about to eat. His heart went cold and his hand shook.
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Afraid she'll find out you really didn't save her?" Potter baited, though his tone was more bland than nasty. He wiped his greasy fingers on a paper towel, crumpling it in a ball and tossing it on the table.
"Has… has she made any progress?" Draco had to ask. He needed to know.
Potter shook his head. "They've told her it's not possible, but she insists." Potter fixed his eyes on Draco, watching him carefully now. "There's a very small chance she'll remember." Potter's voice trailed off. "You did it to her didn't you?" He stood and stepped closer to Draco, crowding him in against the other wall. The room was much too small for the both of them. Draco couldn't even see the doorway with Potter in his way.
Draco looked up and nodded. With no options left to him, truth was the only way to respond.
"Why?" Potter demanded, leaning in closer. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side, and Draco was sure he would reach out to grab him any moment.
"I had to," Draco replied, shrinking away as much as the space would allow.
"What was it like?" Potter snarled. "Being one of them? Was it grand? Did you love the rush of power? Did you love to kill?" The questions were hissed at him each louder than the last. Draco shook his head and flinched, panic setting in. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Stop. Please stop," he said barely loud enough to hear over Potter's shouts. Potter's hand shot out and he gripped the collar of Draco's shabby gray jumper, yanking so hard that he forced Draco almost to his feet. Instinctively Draco grabbed at Potter's arm and held on tightly.
"Why did you Obliviate Hermione?" Potter demanded, shouting into Draco's face. "Why!"
"I had to," Draco said in reply and turned his face away, desperately struggling to get out of Potter's grasp. Draco wanted to claw at Potter's arm, but he didn't bother. He deserved this.
"Why? Did you do something you wanted her to forget?"
Draco shook his head again. A sharp smack on his left cheek shocked Draco into looking up into Potter's cold glare. Tears stung Draco's eyes.
"No. I didn't do anything," Draco finally said after a moment.
Potter released him and Draco fell to the floor on his hands and knees. He got up on his knees and lunged forward, grabbing at Potter's arm.
"You have to stop her, Potter," Draco urged. Potter tried to shake him off, but Draco wouldn't let go. He clung tightly to Potter and even reached round to grip his leg.
"Get off me, you foul bastard," Potter shouted. But Draco clung tightly to Potter, his heart hammering in his chest. Potter finally shook Draco off and stepped away from him, breath ragged.
"Please, Potter," Draco said as he sat back on his legs.
"Why do you care? Why? You were one of them. You stood side-by-side with Voldemort and killed," Potter shouted into Draco's face.
"I never killed," Draco muttered as he turned away, no longer able to look at Potter. "At least not till…"
Potter kicked at Draco's leg then turned and left him alone. Draco was sure that things could only get worse from this moment on. He almost wished he were still in that dark cell. At least he wouldn't have to endure the loathing he felt every time he looked into Potter and Granger's eyes.