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Draco was quivering, sharp cold air hit them both, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if Draco's tears froze against his under eyes. But the boy was no longer wailing, not even a small sound breached his lips as he sat opposite Harry. His head was down against his chest, his brain was going a mile-a-minute - Harry believed it must be too heavy to keep up. He lay a hand on the boys shoulder, squeezing it lightly to let him know he was still there.
Draco flinched, hard. And when his head finally rose to meet Harry's eyes - the upset was nowhere to be seen behind the eyes of distrust and anger. He wondered what caused such a switch, and Harry no longer felt like his presence was a reassurance to Draco anymore. Were they back to square one? Had Harry broken Draco's walls only for him to build them back up in front of him?
"Fight? Were you listening to me, at all?" Draco seethed, rising quickly. Blood rushed to his head in doing so, and he had to grab the wall besides him to stop from toppling over. He near ran to the stairway - anything to get away from the man that had just shown him so much care. Draco had been naive, that part was true. Famous Harry Potter, only caring about recruiting for The Order.
"Draco wait, please." Harry followed behind him, grabbing onto the mans wrist to stop him from leaving so abruptly. His hands were ice cold, and Harry presumed that it wasn't just because of the cold night. Draco was scarily thin, hollow. Maybe someone else would've given up, let him be this bully, not see him for anything more. But Harry couldn't help but only see more. He just kept seeing all that was wrong, all that Draco was doing that seemed to have no heart. The sloppy, weak attacks. "You can fight, you can join The Order."
Laughing now, Draco replied, "Now I know why you're not a Ravenclaw. I cannot fight, Harry. I cannot run away from my family, from my mother. He'd kill her. Now give me my fucking wand."
Harry was angry at the way the conversation had turned, only minutes ago he was holding this boy in his arms. Now his wall was built brick by brick and he couldn't get through to him at all. Any traces of tears had vanished, and the boy was back to the armoured shell. His hand was still clutching Draco's, and he made no effort to move. Feeling his skin on his own, sent sparks up Harry's arm, igniting a different type of hurt when Draco finally pulled away. "Your mother chose her fate, don't let her choose yours."
Draco's eyebrows pinched together with pain, as if the words that swept from Harry's tongue burned him physically. Pointing a finger into Harry's chest he spoke, "How dare you speak of my mother."
Harry tried to take Malfoy's hand into his own again, wanted to place it against his chest to bring back the intimacy of their past conversation. How quickly the boys have gone from hating each other, to caring so deeply they'd do anything to keep the other at their side. Harry had seen something in Draco, something that he'd wanted to find for so long. Fear. Why? Because it gave him leverage, and it meant that the boy himself didn't want the bad that was cocooning around him. He just needed a reason to stop. Harry was going to be that reason.
"She'd want you to fight this."
Draco grabbed his hand back as if it burnt, "You don't know anything about her!"
"I know that she loves her son."
Harry stood still now, watching Draco flinch slightly at the words. Love. The boy wondered if Draco had actually ever felt the emotion in his life, felt the undying care of another person. Harry doubted it before, but realised now that Narcissa did in fact love him, just not enough to save him from the dark world he was being dragged into. Maybe they both were. A moment passed where Draco stood silently with the words, a million thoughts filling his head again - it dropped back to his chest like it did before. He spoke softly.
"She's made an unbreakable vow. With Snape."
Harry's eyes shot up to meet his, hands taking the sides of Draco's face to get him to look at him. Their eyes pierced each other, blue mixing with green. Light taking over dark. Harry didn't know if he'd made up Draco's words, he wish that he had. The confusion in Harry's face was clear.
"You heard me." The blonde steps back, face leaving the protection of Harry's hands.
"Why?" What mission could Draco possibly have been given to warrant such an extreme reaction from his mother. And what could Draco lose by not completing it? Suddenly, the night seemed a whole lot darker, realisation that this boy in front of him was less of a supporter and more of a pawn. Harry believed that Narcissa knew this, was already aware that her son didn't have a choice - that he'd be used by Voldemort to keep them in line. Draco proving himself loyal to him would be the last step.
Harry's hands dropped back to his side, eyes soft as he looked over the shaking boy in front of him.
"To make sure I don't fail." Draco almost whispers.
"She thinks you will.."
With a sneer Draco turns his face away, choosing to rest against the stone with his hands running through his hair. A nervous tick he'd picked up in the last couple of months. He knew his mother hadn't much faith in him, and for good reason. He'd had no luck with the cabinet, he was going to fail, he was sure of it at this point. But it wouldn't stop him from trying, proving himself not only to the Dark Lord, but his family also. A real Malfoy.
"I'm determined not to let her down."
Harry's face twists into a morbid sight watching the boy teeter a little too close to the drop in front of them. "By becoming a terrorist?" His voice came out a little more loud, strained than he would've liked.
"Don't use such muggle terminology, Potter."
Harry's face dropped further, Draco continues to remind him of the differences between them and how they grew up. Rubbing his fists together it takes a lot for Harry to not lash out, he tries to remember that they aren't seeing the war in the same way right now. He was seeing it from the front lines, leading resistance efforts like Dumbledore's Army. While Draco saw it with terror and disillusionment. The difference was stark, Harry dropped his hands once again to his sides and joined the other boy, standing next to him and looking up to the stars.
"But, you do know it's true? Don't you?" Harry tries to stay soft, wanting to break through to Draco and not lose progress.
"I don't even know what a terrorist is."
Harry often forgets not everyone grew up in muggle society. But he can imagine Draco was told very little, if anything, about them.
"You're working for an extremist, helping him gain power over everyone. And change everything beautiful about this world."
With a sigh, Draco looks over at Harry, noticing how he isn't looking back. Just staring at the sky above. The night was beautiful, without a cloud in sight. The views are much nicer than from the Manor in Wiltshire, Scotland has incredible scenery that Draco often doesn't take notice of. It's hard to find beauty in things with such lonesome darkness surrounding you. A tear falls slowly from his eye, and he brushes it away before it even reaches half way down his face. Vulnerability wasn't something Draco enjoyed, it was often followed with fear and pain.
"Didn't I just reiterate that I don't want to be doing this?" He strained, and Harry finally stops looking at the sky.
"Then help stop him."
"I can't."
"You're a coward, Malfoy." Harry knew he was being harsh, knew that Draco probably needed stability, or someone to tell him that everything would be fine. But, during the middle of a war, Harry is scared. And one more person on their side means everything, he can't let Voldemort win. He knows that this conversation is life or death, that everything he says is of upmost importance. People are dying, everyday.
"I'm choosing to save my family."
Harry stops leaning, standing straight and towering slightly. He never realised he grew taller than Draco over the years. Voice strong, and full of emotion he replies.
"At the cost of everyone else's?"
Draco didn't need someone to scold him, he knew he was choosing his mother over the mothers of a hundred others, but deep down he knew he needed to hear it. Needed someone to tell him that he was wrong, that he was acting from pain and cowardice. He just didn't expect the person to tell him would be the Chosen One himself, of course it sounds ridiculous that Harry would even care. That Harry could see anything in Draco that wasn't the evil from his parents, that he was worth saving. His hands trembled, he knew it wasn't from the cold, but from the realisation. The cold hard truth, in fact.
But as much as he knew it was wrong, he wouldn't give up on his mother from one conversation. Draco starts to understand that he wasn't placed in Slytherin for being cunning, but for self-preservation. He was scared, and because of this he couldn't just leave his family.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
"No you're not."
But he was, he was sorry that he wasn’t courageous like a Gryffindor, like Harry. Sorry that when it mattered, his hands had trembled instead of reached out, that his voice had faltered instead of stood firm. He wondered, not for the first time, if courage was something you were born with—or something he had simply lost along the way.
"Harry, please. Try to understand."
Taking hold of Draco's shoulders, he pushes their faces close. Draco's eyes were wet with unshed tears, his lips parted as if the words were taken from his mouth. Harry tried not to look at the perfect curvature of his lips.
"Tell me that this isn't eating you from the inside, that the guilt has you sleeping soundly at night. Tell me you know what you're doing, you know what you're doing and don't feel remorse."
Draco's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes closed and the tears finally fell, illuminated by the stars around them.
"I can't."
Harry broke the distance between them, pushing their lips together and holding the back of Draco's head as they both melted into the kiss. How long Draco had dreamed of the day Harry would see him, all of him, and all of the pain. The touch was electricity, hot fire travelling through his body as more tears fell. He pushed away and Harry looked so incredibly ashamed.
"Draco I- " The words died in his throat as Draco dragged him back, forcing their lips together once more in an act so vulgar he thought he could be imagining it. This time, Harry was the one to pull away, and only because of the harsh sobs fighting their way out from Draco's lips. So much emotion, care and love that he'd never once received. All at once.
"I was imperioed." Draco near wailed, falling again to the same place on the floor they had only just raised from as his knees buckled. Harry catches him, falls with him, mind rushing through a million thoughts. All of pain, fear.
Harry didn't reply to the confession, failed to find something to say in return.
"My father. He imperioed me when I told him I wouldn't - couldn't, get the mark. My mother, she screamed. She screamed so loud for him to stop, but she didn't do anything more. Couldn't even be in the same room while it happened. While I got it, the- the.." Draco's voice was hoarse, he bit the insides of his cheeks and looked away from Harry. He couldn't look him in the eye after admitting.
Harry turned Draco's face back carefully to meet his eyes, then he reached down for the boys arm and pulled back his sleeve. The mark was so dark, so brutal in comparison to the boys crystal skin. It was an ugly thing, on a beautiful boy.
"You're.. protecting. These people?" There was nothing else he could say.
"She's still my mum."
Mum. Not mother. Harry noticed the change. Noticed that behind the walls Draco had built up so carefully, he was still just a boy that needed his mum.
"You didn't deserve that, I'm sorry."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not."
The words were quick out their mouths, the most sure conversation they'd had during the whole ordeal. Both sure the other had to have been feeling the complete opposite. Draco knew that his bad behaviour over the years would inevitably get him in this position, just like his father. Knew that he deserved for all the bad to finally catch up with him. Harry on the other hand knew he deserved better, deserved to have a life of decision. His own decisions, and not ones made up for him.
Harry holds the boys face, pulling their foreheads together as he looked into his ice blue eyes, eyes that had held so much depth and emotion.
"Draco you have a choice, here, with me. You could stay with your family, like you want. Live a life in darkness, in the cold arms of your mother and father... Or.."
He held his breath and closed his eyes.
"You can live a life of freedom."
Opening his eyes he reached Harry's, if maybe for the last time.
"I'm terrified."