Full Moon Conversation

Full Moon Conversations (1/1)
By: Tazzy (jellicalcat1@yahoo.com)
Rating: G
Warning: Spoilers for Goblet of Fire
Disclaimer: If Rawlings ever wants to give \'em up, I\'ll be happy to add \'em to my harem, but until then, she still owns \'em.
Author\'s notes: All I can do is blame a friend who insisted on discussing Draco, Harry and their motives for their actions. He created this little plot who quickly developed into two prologues and a full-blown story. I don\'t own any one here. They all belong to the talented J.K. Rowlings. Also, the reasons for why the characters act like they do are only born of evidence in my own fevered brain and a to year absence from last reading the books.

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I\'m not quite sure what woke me that night or even why I left the Slytherin dorm, but a few days after the TriWizard Cup ended in disaster, I found myself wandering the dark halls of Hoggwarts, not sure where I was going and why. Finally, I came across a lone figure sitting in one of the large windows, illuminated by the full moon\'s light. For some reason, I was surprised to see tears streaming down Harry Potter\'s face, and I quietly approached him, feeling for all the world like I was approaching an untamed animal.

\"What\'s wrong?\" The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, and his head whipped around, his green eyes seemed almost luminous in the pale light. For a second, I could see fear and vulnerability in that gaze before the walls slammed down, effectively sealing his emotions behind a frozen mask.

\"What do you want, Malfoy?\" he asked, his voice tired and missing the usual liveliness that infused it.

I shrugged and hopped up on the windowsill to sit across from him. This was one of the older windows that were as deep as a regular bench and nearly as wide. Both of us easily fit in with room left over. \"I\'m not honestly sure,\" I confessed, my voice hushed more by the atmosphere than the threat of being caught by one of the professors. \"I woke up and something brought me to you.\" Perhaps it was that vulnerability I had caught a gimps of or maybe the sight of a bloody and disheveled Harry being hustled through the halls, surrounded by professors, but something in me wanted to comfort him, perhaps see if we could put our animosity behind us and become friends.

\"Voldemort\'s back.\" The flat voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I stared into that unwavering green gaze as a chill settled into my bones that had nothing to do with sitting on cold stones in my night clothes. \"He\'s back, and your father was among the first to greet him, Draco.\"

\"No,\" I whispered, shaking my head in disbelief. \"I can\'t believe you.\" Yet, some little voice was telling me that it was true. Father always used the Dark Arts as a way to thumb his nose at the Ministry of Magic, as if to say \"I\'m a Malfoy and you can\'t tell me what to do\". He even started teaching me at a young age those same Arts, and yes, I know it is illegal, but it was like sneaking out of the rooms at night; exciting and dangerous with the fear of being caught making it all the sweeter when you got away with it.

Thin but strong arms were holding me close to a lanky body, and I felt myself desperately clinging to the worn fabric under my hands like a drowning man clings to a log. A soft hand stroked my hair and for the first time in what seemed like ages, I allowed myself to be comforted.

\"I\'m sorry.\" The words were whispered in my hair and I pulled back to look into those luminous green eyes that were brimming with tears. \"I couldn\'t stop him. I could only run. And the worst part is that I know what their plans are for you.\" He gently transferred his touch to my left wrist, turning it slightly so my forearm was bared, and his free hand traced a design on the exposed skin. A design that was all too familiar and sent chills down my spine.

\"Why not?\" I conceded in a bitter voice. \"He\'s raised me to be a copy of himself in every way, so it makes sense that he\'d want me to join the Deatheaters.\" A tired sigh escaped me, and I leaned forward to rest my head on Harry\'s shoulder. \"Y\'know, I have no idea who Draco Malfoy is? I only know Lucious Malfoy\'s perfect, cold hearted son who is *just* like his father.\" At that moment I realized how empty my life really was. Mother was weak and totally subservient to Father while he wanted me to follow in his footsteps so closely that all I was was a miniature of him; not a son to love but a dog to train to his whims. \"At least your family cares for you.\"

That earned me a chuckle as bitter as my own had been. \"The Dursleys don\'t care for me,\" Harry said, shaking his head before leaning back again and gazing once more at the heavy moon. \"They never wanted to take me in, and to them, I\'m the freak son of a freak sister who is no better than she was. The only reason I finally got a bedroom instead of still being in the closet under the stairs is because of Dumbledore\'s letters inviting me here.\"

I couldn\'t believe it! The Boy Who Lived was unwanted and unloved by his own family? My disbelief must have been apparent on my face because he nodded. \"That\'s one reason why I disliked you when you started talking at the robe shop. You reminded me of my cousin, Dudley, who gets everything he wanted and lords over me all the time,\" he explained. \"I can\'t get back at Dudley without getting a thrashing, but you were fair game at school.\"

\"Too bad we can\'t just escape for the summer and go somewhere to just be ourselves,\" I said, wistfully. \"I\'d love to find out who Draco Malfoy really is.\"

Harry nodded, and I idly wondered when he had stopped being \"Potter\" and became \"Harry\". \"That would be nice,\" he sighed. \"Not have to do with the Dursleys at all.\" He shifted and a glint of silver caught my eye. Looking down, I could only chuckle at the mass of silver cloth bundled in his lap. A cloak of invisibility. That explained how many of his midnight escapades went unnoticed.

Gently I ran my fingers over the shimmery fabric. \"A cloak of invisibility,\" I mused. \"Always wondered how you managed to sneak around without getting caught.\"

\"It is one of my few possessions that belonged to my father,\" confessed Harry, a weak smile on his face as his eyes filled with tears. Without thinking about it, I gathered him in my arms, offering what comfort I could and he gratefully accepted it, reversing our positions from earlier. I stroked that shaggy black hair of his and gave him what comfort I could, his tears soaking my shirt.

We sat like that for several minutes, two figures opposite of each other, bathed in the silvery light, until Harry finally pulled away, wiping at his face with his sleeve. \"Feel better?\"

\"Not really,\" he confessed, his voice hoarse with the tears he shed. \"How much do you know of what happened?\"

I shrugged. \"Not much actually. You\'re the only one who knows the full story, and what I know comes from what the professors have let slip when I\'ve been around. Which basically consists of He\'s back and that one of his followers was impersonating Mad-Eye Moody.\"

\"One of his followers found a potion to bring Voldemort back. The main ingredient was the blood of his enemy.\" The Dark Arts lessons that Father gave me came back in painful clarity at that moment. \'To make an enemy\'s magic useless against you, create a potion where the main ingredient is something personal from them; saliva, blood, and hair work the best.\' That meant whatever magic that made Harry the Boy Who Lived was now useless against any attack that Voldemort threw at him.

\"Ever feel like you\'re fourteen going on forty?\" The question startled me out of my thoughts and I looked down into drowsy green eyes. His words struck a chord in me and I nodded, resting my cheek on that unruly hair. We seemed to be complete opposites; him, dark and friendly, me pale and aloof, but it was startling how similar we truly were. \"When\'s the last time you had any fun, and I don\'t mean pulling pranks.\"

Frowning, I thought about the last time I was happy or at least at peace with myself. \"In all honesty, I\'d have to say our first year. It was when Hagrid\'s dragon hatched and you caught me peering in the window.\" Harry opened his mouth but I laid a finger across his lips before continuing. \"What you don\'t know is that I was outside, just enjoying the evening, when I saw the light on in his cottage and grew curious. You saw me and I knew you wouldn\'t believe me no matter what I told you, so I did what was expected of me.\" I removed my finger from his lips and watched as he automatically licked them. \"What about you?\"

Harry sighed and placed his head on my shoulder, snuggling farther into my arms. \"Right after my first year,\" he confessed in a sleep-tinged voice. \"Whenever Aunt Petunia, Dudley, or Uncle Vernon gave me any trouble, I\'d start muttering nonsense under my breath and they were instantly nice to e since they thought I was casting spells.\" He sighed and slipped closer towards sleep. \"Seems we\'re always doing what\'s expected of us instead of actually enjoying what\'s left of our childhood.\" Before I could say anything, he went limp in my arms and his gentle breathing told me that he had finally fallen asleep.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him more securely, and sigh. \"Always what we\'re expected to do,\" I whispered in agreement. \"Will we ever get the chance to just enjoy life?\"

\"Perhaps we adults have forgotten that you are only fourteen as well,\" remarked a soft voice beside me. Startled and a bit wary, I looked up to find Professor Dumbledore standing there with an unreadable expression on his face. I opened my mouth to explain, apologize, or say anything, when he held up a hand to cut me off. \"This is the first time Harry has slept without nightmares since he returned.\" A gentle smile flickered across his bearded face as fingers tentatively brushed across Harry\'s forehead. The sleeping boy shifted slightly in my arms before settling down once more.

\"Professor, is it true? Is my father really...\" I broke off, not wanting to voice my fear, because if I did, then it would be real and I didn\'t know how I would be able to hand the truth.

Dumbledore stared at me. \"I\'m afraid it is true,\" he apologized. \"Harry told us that Voldemort addressed your father by name as well as recognized Lucious Malfoy\'s voice.\" He reached out his hand again, this time to brush against my cheek and I was surprised at the dampness there. It was then that I realized that tears were streaming down my face.

\"I can\'t go home,\" I whispered, feeling suddenly small and lost. \"Father will want me to follow in his footsteps, no matter where they lead. \"I can\'t... I don\'t want...\" The words were sticking in my throat, and my breath was coming in gasps. A strong arm encircled my shoulders, offering silent comfort that I greedily accepted once more. Finally, I managed to get myself under control and scrubbed at my face, not caring if the silk shirt stained. \"What am I going to do?\"

Gentle fingers gripped my chin and I looked up into caring eyes framed by spectacles. \"You could start by getting some sleep,\" he soothed, his voice a balm to my frazzled nerves. \"And then, in the morning when you are feeling better, we might be able to discuss some options.\"

I shook my head. Sleep right now meant nightmares, and I have had more than enough of those. \"Professor, now that He\'s back, I can\'t go home without walking into danger.\" I hesitated, biting my lip. Silently admitting it was one thing, but telling Professor Dumbledore meant not only betraying my family but everything I had known. Did I want to find Draco Malfoy that badly?

A little voice deep inside me was screaming \'Yes! Find who you are, not Lucious Malfoy but *Draco*!\'. I took a deep breath. \"What would the Ministry need to search Malfoy Manner for things relating to the Dark Arts?\" The question was whispered into the night air and I looked up at Dumbledore, tears running unchecked down my face. \"Or at least take me away from there to someplace safe?\"

Dumbledore stared at me, studying my face. \"Why are you willing to do this?\" he asked, his voice curious.

I took a deep breath. \"I need to find out who I am before my father forces me to live his life.\" I glanced down at Harry, still fast asleep. \"*We* need to find out who we are. Not the Boy Who Lived and Lucious Malfoy\'s son, but Harry and Draco.\"

A smile crossed Dumbledore\'s face as if I had passed some special quiz and he lightly clapped me on the shoulder. \"Come to my office tomorrow after breakfast, and we can talk. Bring Harry with you,\" he requested. \"Now, you had better get back to bed, young man, before someone else comes along.\"

I started to ease out of Harry\'s grip, but he tightened his arms around my waist, preventing me from moving very far. I glanced up at Dumbledore. \"I\'m afraid he\'s rather attached to me.\"

Dumbledore chuckled. \"Harry, please let Draco go,\" he murmured to the sleeping boy. Green eyes clouded with sleep blinked open behind those ridiculously thick glasses of his before Harry sat up, releasing his stranglehold on my waist. I quickly slid out of the window and pulled Harry to his feet after me.

\"Harry, you have to go back to your House now,\" I said, pressing the cloak of invisibility into his hands. He nodded and silently padded down the hall towards Gryffindor, swaying as he went.

\"I\'ll make sure he gets back to his bed,\" soothed Dumbledore, patting my shoulder. \"But you had better get along to bed yourself.\"

I nodded and managed to offer him a brief smile before hurrying back to the Slytherin House. As I snuggled down under my covers, I couldn\'t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. Perhaps a solution to both Harry\'s problems and my own. Either way, there was a small spark of hope in my life now.

The End