Truce

From HBP Chapter 24: Sectumsempra

"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it… I can't… it won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"

And Harry realised, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying – actually crying – tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder.

Malfoy wheeled round, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own.

Harry bellowed, "Petrificus Totalus," just as Malfoy screamed, "Stupefy!" Harry's hex hit home while Malfoy's simply bounced off the wall, as his hand shook so much because of his crying.

Malfoy's limbs instantly snapped to his sides as his body went rigid. He crashed onto the cold stone floor, face up. Harry walked over to him as Moaning Myrtle screeched, "What have you done to him? First you won't visit me! Now you Stun the only boy who would! Are you trying to make my life more miserable than when I was alive? Are you trying to kill me all over again?"

Harry ignored Myrtle. He looked into the cold grey eyes, which he suddenly pitied. Why was Malfoy crying? He said something about someone killing him if he didn't manage to do something. Has this anything to do with Voldemort? So, Malfoy's finally learnt the lesson of playing with the big guys now, had he? Harry tried to think Good for him, but the only thing that came out in his brain was How pitiful. And it didn't even sound sarcastic.

Strange that he should pity him. This was Draco Malfoy, arch-enemy, thorn in his side and sore thumb for the last six years, and here he was, feeling sorry for him? What has gotten into him? But, Harry reminded himself, Malfoy couldn't bring himself to do whatever Voldemort wanted him to do. At least he still had a little human left in him, unlike his cold father and their even colder master. Years of personal experience, of which Harry neither desired nor enjoyed, told him that whatever it was that Voldemort had assigned for Malfoy to do, it surely wouldn't have a happy ending for their world. Voldemort and happy ending just don't belong to the same sentence. Voldemort and disaster, on the other hand, was close to being synonymous. He decided that a little chat was what they needed. A little chat which would last more than a few minutes. Hell, they needed a chat which would last more than a few seconds, actually, that doesn't involve majority of the 'conversation' being duels, trying to hex each other's heads off.

"All right, I'm going to take this Body-Bind Curse off you, but no hexing me, OK? In fact," Harry added, just in time to see Malfoy's eyes oozing with hatred, "just to be on the safe side, I'll keep your wand until we've had a little talk." Harry said quietly, pocketing Malfoy's wand. When he saw Malfoy's eyes was still glimmering with nothing but deep loathing for the person standing in front of him (namely he, Harry), he added, "Look, I won't hex you, that's a promise. Now will you agree, or should I leave you like that while I hold a one-sided conversation? Considering that you're on a cold stone floor... that won't be very nice for a conversation now, would it?"

Malfoy's eyes soften and he seemed to relent. Harry performed the counter-curse and Malfoy ease up, sitting on the toilet floor. "Myrtle, will you excuse us? Boy talk." Myrtle looked as though she had been clubbed over the head. She looked first at Harry, then at Malfoy, and then, with a tragic wail, sped down one of the toilet cubicles with a splash to return to her toilet on the first floor, screaming something which sounded horribly like "Boys!". Not that the two sixteen-going-on-seventeen men minded.

Harry studied Malfoy closely. He looked more terrible than before. The dark rings around his eyes were more pronounced, making him look like a panda when it was contrasted with his pale skin. His face looked extremely tired, like he hadn't slept for days, which, Harry reminded himself, he probably did. His eyes were red and blotchy from crying. What was he crying about?

"Why were you crying?" Harry asked tentatively. Malfoy looked up in surprise. No one had ever used that tone with him before, not even his mother. Yet he remembered, He'd kill me if I tell.

"I… I can't tell you… I'm not supposed to tell anyone… He'd kill me if I did…" Malfoy stuttered. Harry could see he wasn't lying. There was fear in his eyes. Voldemort.

"Voldemort huh? I know you're a Death Eater." Harry might as well go straight to what he knew. That did the trick. Malfoy's fear intensified.

"What? You do? But… how?" He looked positively alarmed.

"In Madam Malkin's shop. You jerked up when she made to roll up your left sleeve. I'm not stupid." Harry paused. "Why did he let you in at sixteen? No offence, but I thought…"

"I heard Mother crying, raving about how she reckons the Dark Lord wanted me for this job to punish Father." At that, Malfoy's eyes were suddenly over-bright, and his voice rose. "And it's all your fault! If it hadn't been for the fiasco at the Ministry, he wouldn't have been in Azkaban at all! You…"

"I do not regret that. He got what he deserved, meddling with people he shouldn't. I only regret that…" Now it was Harry's voice that choked. "That… Sirius… was killed. And it's all because of me. Because I fell for Voldemort's stupid trick."

"But it's all you fault that Father's in prison and now I'm dragged into this mess! It's all your fault!" Malfoy screamed.

"Was it?" Harry asked, his temper rising. "I thought you were right glad that you moved on to 'bigger and better things'? Wasn't that what you said to Pansy Parkinson and your group of friends at the beginning of the year? And now, now that you've finally realised the price of playing around with the big boys, you blame me for all your misfortune? How very enlightening!" He finished, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I… I… I have no choice!" Malfoy finally broke. "He said he'd kill me. He said he'd kill my whole family! I'm too young to die! I'm only just seventeen!"

"And I was only one when Voldemort decided to kill me. Age doesn't stop him. You know that now as well as I do. He's just a ruthless maniac who wants everything for himself and nothing for anybody else, including his Death Eaters. Which Dark wizard like Voldemort likes sharing glory? Look at Grindelwald! Voldemort is just the same! His mission in life is to instil terror in everyone, enemy and servant alike. Yes, servant! The Death Eaters are merely toys he uses to make his bide for power, just like Inferi, or haven't you figured that out yourself? Do you think that even one of the many Death Eaters is in his complete confidence at all? No! He only gives the illusion of doing so in order to have you chained to him! He merely wants them to do his dirty jobs for him, discarding people who stood in his way, terrorising people so they do not dare oppose him. He only gives empty promises, none of which will be carried out. He keeps you like keeping a dog on the leash, and killing the dog once he's outgrown his usefulness. Dumbledore said that he showed as little pity towards his servants as to his enemies. He doesn't care if you live or die, so long as you make him all-powerful and strong first. He would see you die first rather than let his plan to take over the world goes up in ashes."

Malfoy was silent as Harry said this. He knew this to be true, yet he didn't want to believe it. But who else knew Voldemort better than any other person on earth? Except for Dumbledore, it was Harry Potter, who had endured so much pain and misery throughout his life, all because the Dark Lord wanted him dead. All those encounters with the Dark Lord must have made Potter naturally understand the workings of Voldemort's mind.

"You know, you could always come back to the right side. I know Dumbledore would hide you. He's a great wizard. People say that he's the only one Voldemort ever feared. You don't have to do this," Harry said, breaking the long silence, when Malfoy said nothing.

Malfoy was quiet. He was considering his chances. Sure, Dumbledore is a great wizard. Yet, Voldemort is greater. But, why hadn't he been able to defeat Dumbledore then? Why did he have to give this task of getting rid of the Headmaster to him, and have him die trying? Was it only to punish his father for the two times he fouled up the Dark Lord's plans, or something even more sinister?

Seeing him hesitate, Harry continued, "We do not ask for you to do anything you do not wish to when you join our side. We would protect you whether you are valuable to us or not. We are not like Voldemort, only letting you remain by his side as long as you're useful to him, and killing you once he achieved his goal. The world doesn't need to be like that, Malfoy. Why do you continue doing this, knowing that you've achieved nothing except retaining your life, but without dignity, without courage to face others and admit what terrible deeds you have done? Why must we take heart in other people's sufferings? You are not a killer, so why should you be one?"

"But I have no choice!" Malfoy hollered, tears spilling afresh. "He said he would kill me, and Mother and Father will undoubtedly disown me for betraying their cause, even kill me too. We are pure-bloods… I cannot disobey them… They are my parents…"

"Malfoy, being a pure-blood doesn't mean anything. We are all wizards and witches who stand equally before the law. Nobody should be disadvantaged because certain groups think that they are better than others. Do you think that a pure-blood's crime is less heinous and less punishable than a half-blood's or Muggle-born's? How would you feel if you were a Muggle-born, and everyone discriminates you, disregarding your talent and your brains, just because of your ancestry? Our blood doesn't mean anything! It's doing what's right that matters! Would you have let someone, anyone, pure-blood, half-blood or Muggle-born, kill your parents? Of course not! So why should you inflict this terrible fate upon others who doesn't deserve it?" Harry stated fiercely.

"He said he would kill me…" Malfoy whimpered pitifully. It's hard to feel hate for him when he's all shaking like this.

"Go to Dumbledore, Malfoy. I'm sure he will help you. He, in his turn, won't look down on you even if you were a Death Eater. He is not like that. I know he will help you." Harry said, his green emeralds looking into Malfoy's grey marbles.

Malfoy made up his mind. He did not want to live a life full of threats, terror and injustice now that he knew what it was like to be in Voldemort's inner circle. He wanted a life full of happiness and enjoyment, a chance to live life fully for himself, a chance to taste and embrace love, and not merely live for others. To be truthful, in all his years of Hogwarts, he had envied Potter, because despite all the sufferings brought upon by Lord Voldemort, he still managed to live life on his own terms, not those dictated by the Dark Lord. He hated Potter because Potter had nothing, yet Potter seemed to have everything he, Malfoy, did not at the same time, and not just because he was the Boy Who Lived, or the Chosen One. He had friends, he had joy, he had life.

Malfoy stood up.

"Yes, I think I will visit the Headmaster. I only hope… it's not too late." He said as he moved towards the bathroom door. As Harry handed him back his wand, he said, "Be careful, Malfoy. Voldemort isn't an easy person to hide from. Even if Dumbledore hides you, you have to be extra careful." Harry couldn't believe he'd see the day when he would be telling his arch-enemy of six years to "be careful".

"I will, Potter. And…" He hesitated before adding, "Thank you."

– Finis –