Harry Potter 7 Part 14 and 15 (CONTEST PIECE)

The Dursleys went out again the next day, leaving Harry with the orders to wash the dishes and clean up the rest of the house.

Harry sighed tiredly once he saw the list of chores that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had left on the fridge. It was a little strange with how often they were all out lately, but Harry shrugged. Uncle Vernon was getting a lot of new orders for his nails and screws. Aunt Petunia liked going with Uncle Vernon since he was getting rich new clients and they were always throwing garden parties and such.

On the note, it told Harry that Dudley had gone out with friends. Harry was relieved. Ever since he had started at Hogwarts, Dudley had been more reluctant to pick on his cousin, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be braver with all his friends around.

Harry ate his breakfast quickly so he would have time to finish all the chores set for him. After his last bit of egg, Harry put his plate in the sink and turned on the hot water.

“Ouch!” Harry cried as the water burnt him. From under the sink, Harry took some plastic gloves and put them on before putting his hands under the water again.

There were plenty of dishes to wash since his uncle hated washing dishes and preferred leaving them all for Harry to do. He liked treating Harry as more of a chore boy than his nephew and was always encouraging Petunia to leave the cleaning to Harry as well.

By ten o’clock, Harry was finished cleaning up the kitchen and was ready to move to the living room. The last thing that Harry needed to do was dry off the dishes, and just as he was on the last one, the door bell rang.

Immediately, Harry was on his guard. Not many people came visiting during the summer. Checking his back pocket, Harry made sure that his wand was still there. His seventeenth birthday hadn’t come yet, but the Death Eaters might be impatient to try something.

Holding the dishrag in one hand and his wand hidden in the other, Harry made his way to the door. “This is one of those times that peepholes come in handy,” Harry muttered to himself. Actually, he was surprised that the Dursleys didn’t have one; Aunt Petunia was so fond of knowing exactly what was going on at all times.

Harry undid the lock on the door but kept the chain in place. Through the tiny slit, Harry looked out, still wanting to be cautious. All he could see was a pair of feet! Immediately curious, and a little worried, Harry undid the chain and opened the door fully. His green eyes widened in shock and his face paled as he saw who was lying there. The boy’s face was hidden but Harry could see the platinum, almost white blond hair and the pale skin. He was unconscious, but Harry still recognized him.

“Malfoy,” Harry gasped.

Part 15

The boy, upon hearing his name, stirred. Harry looked around, but didn’t see anyone. Still, he was hesitant. He couldn’t quite forgive Draco for letting the Death Eaters into the school. After all, it was his fault that Dumbledore was dead and Bill was probably going to be a werewolf. Plus, just because there were no Death Eaters in sight didn’t mean they weren’t there.

When Draco didn’t wake up, Harry nudged the boy not-too-gently with his foot. “Malfoy,” he hissed.

Draco woke up then, his blue eyes wide with what looked like fear.

Harry had never seen Draco look afraid and was worried.

“Draco?”

Draco looked up, brushing his unkempt hair out of his eyes. When his sight landed on Harry, relief filled his eyes.

This, more than anything else, scared Harry. Malfoy had never in his life been glad to see Harry before. That he was happy to see him now was not a good thing.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Harry asked, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame, holding his wand in plain sight.

Malfoy struggled into a sitting position and leaned with relief against the house. He merely glanced at Harry’s wand. “Much as it pains me to admit to this, Potter, I-” here Malfoy’s teeth clenched though whether from actual pain or from his words, Harry wasn’t sure. “I need your help,” the words came out in one long breath.

Harry’s green eyes widened and he shifted his body in surprise, but other than that, the boy’s calm face showed no expression. “How do I know this isn’t some sort of trap?” Harry asked, still suspicious. His grip tightened on his wand.

“Would I actually let them talk me into asking you for help?” Malfoy asked.

“Well, I guess not,” Harry admitted.

Malfoy struggled to stand up, holding onto the house’s wall for support. “I’m not lying, Potter,” Malfoy assured him. “Potter—Harry, I really do need your help. If I was here to fight, wouldn’t I already have pulled my wand?”

Harry looked down at Malfoy, his eyes still cold and hard. “And why should I help you, Draco?” he asked, his voice as hard as his eyes.

“Th-the Dark Lord. He-he has my parents.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Like I didn’t already know that, Draco. Your father’s been in Azkaban with the Dementors for a while.”

Malfoy shook his head. “It’s not only my father, Harry. The Dark Lord-he has my mother too.”

Harry yawned with affected boredom. “Why should I care, Malfoy? You’re Voldemort’s favorite child, aren’t you? Just go ask him to release your parents.”

Malfoy’s pale cheeks flushed with anger and he stood straighter. “You don’t get it, do you, Potter?” he hissed and pushed Harry inside the house. Quickly, he slammed the door behind them and locked it. “If it was just a matter of being the favorite child, The Dark Lord wouldn’t have to have my mother. But…ever since he killed Dumbledore, things have changed. I-Dumbledore always cared about me, even when he knew I was up to things I shouldn’t be. Snape killed Dumbledore, I didn’t.”

Harry’s eyes hardened again as he was taken back to that night. “But you let the Death Eaters into the castle, Malfoy. You stunned Dumbledore. Draco, you’re the reason Dumbledore’s dead!”

Malfoy looked up at Harry, eyes blazing. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I don’t remember that night every day of my life? You don’t think that I wish he was still…still alive? Potter, The Dark Lord is holding my mother captive to make sure I will still obey his orders!” Malfoy burst out.

Harry was shocked. “What?!” he cried. “You mean, you don’t want to work for Voldemort anymore?”

Draco shook his head decidedly. “I can’t live with it! Sure I want power, and The Dark Lord always said we would have to kill Dumbledore, but I never thought that it would actually happen! Dumbledore…he’s too strong! I know how I’ve…behaved in the past and…I am a little ashamed. I was acting like a stupid school-boy, especially in relation to you.”

Harry nodded. “Yes, you were.” His voice was cold, and in it, held a challenge that the old Draco couldn’t have helped answering to.

This new, more mature young man however, merely inclined his head. “As I was saying…when the Dementors left Azkaban, my father got a letter through to us. It was encouraging me to serve The Dark Lord faithfully and we would be well rewarded. But it’s not true!” Malfoy banged on the wall in his anger.

Harry stepped back, holding up his hands neutrally. “Hey there, take it easy Malfoy, this isn’t my house.”

Draco took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

Harry was astonished. Malfoy, apologizing?! And to Harry of all people? “Go on,” Harry said, wanting to know more about what caused the change in his enemy.

“I-I didn’t exactly voice my…change of heart as it were to The Dark Lord, but…he could tell. He captured my mother to keep me…loyal as it were. Harry, I-I really do need your help.” Malfoy gestured helplessly, sinking down onto the stairs on the main floor.

Harry sat down beside Malfoy. Normally, he wouldn’t trust Malfoy as far as he could throw him, but…the emotions that Malfoy was showing now were so new, so raw, so real. Harry had to trust them. No longer was Draco Malfoy the snobby schoolboy. Now, he was just a young man who was caught up in between the eternal—and completely real—fight between good and evil.

Harry sighed and leaned back against the mahogany banister. “Draco, how can I help you?” he asked.

Malfoy looked at his former enemy with sad eyes. “I-I don’t know, Harry. All I know is that the Death Eaters are after me. The Dark Lord doesn’t give up his followers without a fight. This was the only safe place I could think of. After all, with Dumbledore gone, I wouldn’t be welcome back at Hogwarts. And even if I did go back, I wouldn’t be able to stand it. Crab and Goyle have gone to join their fathers; I would be completely susceptible to being mobbed.”

“Harry, I-I want to come with you. I have to help you defeat The Dark Lord if I ever want to see my mother again. Let me help. At least with you I’ll have a chance of survival.”

Harry thought over Malfoy’s words for a moment. They did ring true, even if Malfoy had been a liar. After a minute of deliberation, Harry nodded. With a grim smile, he extended his hand. “I couldn’t have your death on my conscience,” he joked.

Malfoy took the hand, his smile hard but his eyes relieved. “Thanks.”