Close Enough

Ch 17 Saving a Savior: A true story

Draco sat, brow furrowed, mouth slack, looking completely aghast between the book in his hands and the sleeping form of one Harry Potter. In the short span of three hours he had started and finished the book Cord had given him, and doing so left him feeling fairly sick to his stomach. The book in question had been filled with bits of information that Draco could only assume that no one really knew, because if they did Harry wouldn’t be getting the treatment that he was from the rest of the wizarding word.
The book contained a full history, including his very first ‘real’ memory.

Harry’s first memory is that of a broken plate. A seemingly unimportant event to most, however to a three year old Harry Potter it was something that would be hard to forget.
‘Crash’
“Mum! Dad! Harry broke a plate” Harry can remember his whale of a cousin yelling, staring at him looking down at the plate that he had just dropped on purpose.
“No I didn’t! You did! I saw you!” A small boy in oversized clothes screeched. As soon as these words left his mouth a mammoth man burst through the kitchen door. And his cousin’s face lit up.
“Dad! He broke a plate! I saw him, he did it on purpose!” at this Dudley smirked and moved behind his father, who was advancing on the now shaking boy.
“BOY! How dare you damage my property!” at this he scooped up one of the larger pieces of the broken plate. “I will not tolerate this! You must be taught!!!” At this his Uncle Vernon threw the chunk of plate directly at Harry, causing a large gash in his shoulder that immediately began to bleed.
“Bu… But I didn’t do it, Uncle Vernon! I didn’t….” Harry then winced as his uncle picked him up by his shirt, literally strangling him with it.
“Don’t argue with me boy!” Vernon hauled Harry over to his cupboard, “You will remain in here, until you have respect for other people’s possessions!” He threw Harry inside before slamming and locking the door from the outside. “and NO meals! You will make up the cost of the plate, it was a wedding present from Marge.”
Harry stayed in his cupboard for two whole weeks after that, he managed to get food after about a day though. However he suspected that this had more to do with his relatives not wanting to hear him cry out of hunger more so than wanting him to not starve.

Draco couldn’t imagine how anyone could do this to a child, let alone a family member.
The book also included what the author dubbed, ‘a day in the life’. There were three separate ones. One of his childhood, his early years at school, and one that would probably be called after the war.
Childhood: a day in the life
Up before anyone else in the house.
Clean upstairs bathroom, so it is nice for the morning showers.
Cook breakfast.
Watch as family eats.
Clean up after breakfast, clean kitchen.
Weed the garden.
Mow the lawn.
Make lunch.
Dust, Vacuum.
Water the lawn.
Clean Dudley’s room.
Laundry.
Make snack for Dudley.
Do Dudley’s homework.
Begin making preparations for dinner.
Clean bathroom, for evening showers.
Make dinner.
Watch as family eats.
Clean up after dinner, clean kitchen.
Have dinner: toast, cheese, and water.
Finish laundry.
Into the cupboard for bed.

School: a day in the life
Wake screaming from another Voldemort nightmare.
Not be able to go back to sleep.
Work on left over homework from the night before.
Wait for friends to get up.
Try to eat breakfast, feel sick, stop.
Morning class.
Be made fun of for living.
Be picked on for not being as smart as you should be.
Lunch.
Manage half a sandwich, feel sick, stop.
Afternoon class.
See the Slytherins.
Be made to feel insignificant and invisible.
Feel as though whatever intelligence that was there this morning is now gone.
“Why didn’t you just die, Potter, nobody wants you here.”
Cut, Bleed, Feel.
Dinner, actually eat. Actually get sick.
Badgered into doing homework.
Try to sleep.
Nightmare.

After the War: a day in the life
Get up.
Pushed down stairs by former friends.
Cut.
Class.
Ignored, mostly.
Cut.
Lunch.
Bleed.
Class.
Tripped, kicked, books scattered everywhere.
Bleed.
Walk to lake, sit alone.
Write.
Sit.
Write.
Fall asleep outside.
Wake up at dawn.
Watch sunrise on another day.
Sigh.


Each of these lists was found in the appropriate part of the book. It was like a sick and twisted timeline to an even more twisted life. Draco read about the beating that Harry received for things that weren’t his fault, about the things he was made to do by his relatives, about the fact that he knew nothing of the wizarding world when he entered it at age eleven. Draco knew that Cord had been right, he would be able to understand a little better now, seeing as most of what was in the book Harry would probably never voice to anyone.
Of all the things in the book, all of the insight and information, there was one chapter in particular that held all of Draco’s attention. It was the part about Harry’s first time in the wizarding world. The chapter told all about finding out about being a wizard, and going to Diagon Alley with Hagrid for the first time. The chapter described in detail the feelings of being completely overwhelmed by all these strangers who thought he was something special. It told of wishing he had more eyes so that he wouldn’t miss anything, and how every little thing was amazing.
In the middle of the chapter lay what interested Draco the most, the description of a little incident with a blond boy in a robe shop. This was done in a first person account.

Hagrid left me to get my robes by myself, I can’t blame him though he was a little green around the edges after the cart ride at the bank. I was nervous, it was the first time I was going to be alone in this strange new place. If it wasn’t enough that everyone seemed to know who I was, I also had no idea about anything to do with this world. I felt completely at a disadvantage.
The woman asked if I was going to Hogwarts and told me to stand on a stool next to another boy being fitted. To my immense relief, this boy didn’t seem to recognize me like everyone else did. What luck I thought!
He was taller than me, pale, platinum blond, with striking grey eyes. If the look on his face was anything to go by, this boy was probably not as nice as he was to look at. It took no time at all for me to know that I was right.
He began to talk. First about his family, lucky bastard. Then about his money, luckier bastard. Then about school, and follow it up with Quidditch. I had no family to speak of, and for all I knew I was one of those ‘other sort’ that shouldn’t be allowed in, I mean I was raised by muggles. I never had money, had no idea I had any money to my name until about ten minutes prior. And about school and Quidditch, he was at a compete advantage there. I mean I had only known that I was a wizard for less then twenty-four hours, how I was to know about school houses and wizarding sports teams.
It was all I could do to just stand there, nod, and ‘umhmm’ my way until my robes where done. I don’t think I have ever moved that fast in my life. I needed to get away. This was someone I was going to be going to school with and I just made a total prat of myself, because I was completely ignorant to the world that had surrounded me at the time. I have never felt so alone, small, and worthless in my life as I did that day.
On the train to school a month later, I discovered that the boy did know who I was. Apparently everyone did. I also found that I didn’t really want to know him. In two conversations with him, well two times when he spoke and I was in the room anyway, he insulted my two very first friends. Both of which spoke to me like an equal, were nice to me, and made me feel good about myself.
So when on this fateful journey he offered his hand in friendship, I turned it down. He told me that he would help me in knowing what people to associate with. In my opinion, at the time, I surely didn’t want to associate with him. He insulted the first people who were ever nice to me. Right, like I was going to choose him over them.

It was a scene that Draco had played over in his mind probably a thousand times over, especially over the past week, and it was difficult to see it from Harry’s point of view. But after reading this whole book, Draco felt as though he would have made the same decision about his own offer of friendship. What Draco had always thought was a ‘failure to impress’, was actually just a very uncomfortable situation gone wrong. If only he had known what was in this book then, everything would have been different, he would have been different.
After sitting staring at the now closed book for a good half hour, Draco placed it back on the table by his bed and laid down on his side watching Harry sleep. It was hard to think that everything in the book could possibly be true, if all of those things actually happened to someone, wouldn’t they turn out more like… more like Voldemort? Draco watched Harry sleep for a long time contemplating that very thought. How could someone live through having relatives like that, having the world thrust upon your shoulders, nearly being killed how many times, and having to commit murder all before you were 17 and turn out as sweet, kind and caring as Harry is? It just isn’t possible.
After an hour dwelling on this thought Draco finally blew out the candle by his bed and drifted off to sleep. He dreamed of holding Harry while he cried about his past, kissing away the tears as Harry told him all the awful things that had happened to him. Draco smiled in his sleep; even just his dream-self being that close to Harry was wonderful.
His dream-world was shattered an hour later by an ear splitting scream.