![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quirkysmuseFandom: Harry Potter
Title: A Man beyond the Name
Genre: Angst/Drama
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13 (may change)
Status: WIP; part one
Warnings/Spoilers: Maybe some HBP later on; postVoldemort fic; slash most likely later on
Summary: Years later after Voldemort's defeat, Draco Malfoy is still living with Snape and his name is a disgrace. Harry comes to find him alone, scorned, and living without respect, but Harry knows that Draco
deserves better. Draco deserves dignity. Draco/Harry
Notes: Beta-work by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amara_anon
Alternate Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2826449/1/
“Harry did not believe that Malfoy would have killed Dumbledore. He despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the Dark Arts, but now the tiniest bit of pity mingled with his dislike.”
~Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, American Edition, P. 640
A Man beyond the Name
Draco glared at his drink, and his lip curled in a sneer. He could feel hateful eyes on him from inside the bar.
For the first time in his family’s history, the Malfoy name was considered a joke. Why? Well, his once prominent father was now rotting in Azkaban. His poor mother was committed to St. Mungo’s, either because the Minister was really concerned for her poor mental health or he was just keeping an eye on her.
And there he was, Draco, the pride of his father’s pure bloodline, once a Death Eater in service of the Dark Lord. But he couldn’t even do that right, for he had been a coward and couldn’t even carry out his mission. To top it all off, he was now under the care of Professor Snape, and frankly, he was getting tired of him.
He picked up his glass and took a quick swig of fire whiskey. He felt somewhat better, now that he was out of Snape’s company and alone for a change. He didn’t know why he had to hang around Snape anymore; after five years since his departure from Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort was finally gone, thanks to Saint Potter.
Draco felt a nauseous twitch in his stomach when he thought of the boy. Since Voldemort was destroyed, he didn’t here much about Harry Potter anymore. In fact, having both Voldemort and Potter out of ear’s reach was comforting to him, if only he could get out of this cycle of boredom with Snape’s baby-sitting. Maybe then his life would be tolerable.
He made a face as a shadow darkened the gleam on his glass. He could feel someone behind him, and he turned right away to give this person a nasty retort.
Though, when he turned around, his eyes met with someone very familiar. ‘Speak of the devil.’
But Harry didn’t look surprised to see him. In fact, he looked relieved, as if he had been searching for him.
“What do you want, Potter?” Malfoy hissed, turning away and tracing a finger over the rim of his glass. His head started to feel fuzzy.
“I – I heard you were here, and I needed to find you,” Harry said, his voice stumbling yet calm.
Draco laughed. “Why do you need to find me, Potter? What would Saint Potter ever want with Draco Malfoy, the laughing stock of the Wizarding World? Have you come to bring me justice, St. Potter?”
“No,” Harry said simply, clenching his jaw. He furrowed his brow in anger, and seemed to be holding back his emotions. Draco wondered if Harry still hated him.
“I came because there’s something that’s been bothering me about you for some time. There’s something I’ve wanted to say but could never bring myself to say it because I’ve let my feelings get in the way.” Harry paused, and Draco seemed extremely interested. Then Harry blurted, “Thank you.”
Draco looked bewildered. “For what?”
“For not killing Dumbledore. Things happened so quickly back then I didn’t have a chance to think about it. After hearing you and your mom in the papers lately, I’ve had more time to think it over.” He brought his eyes up from the floor and stared him squarely in the face. “I – I realize that what you did was very brave.”
Draco was speechless at first. He watched as Harry fidgeted under his gaze, looking away and twisting his lip in exasperation as if it was hard for him to admit such a thing.
And though Draco believed Harry was sincere, it didn’t make him feel any better. Harry’s opinion did not change his mood – it did not change his life. He glared at him.
“I don’t need your thanks, Potter,” Draco said, turning away. He got up from his seat to leave, but Harry put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Wait, there’s something else. I know that you’re still with Snape.”
“So, what of it? Like you care about that old ponce anyway,” Draco muttered, snatching his arm away from him.
“Malfoy, please, just hear me out,” Harry said, following him as he walked out of the bar into the cold autumn air. Draco automatically shivered, and sneered at the people giving him the usual disgusted looks.
“Go away, Potter.” Draco stopped but did not look at him. He scowled, and put his hands in his pockets. “Go back to your hero’s life.”
Then there was a bitter silence, and suddenly Draco was being shoved backward. Harry had pinned him up against the window of the bar. Green eyes looked at him stern and heavy, and Draco almost felt bewitched by them.
“Listen, you don’t have to live like this anymore. There is a way out, away from Snape,” Harry lashed at him. Draco looked surprised at first but then his glare returned.
“What is there left for me, Poster Boy of the Wizarding World? What do you think you can do for me?” Draco grinned at him, almost menacingly, just like he had so many times before in the old days. “I see you haven’t gotten over that hero complex yet, Potter. So you want to save me? You heard how the Daily Prophet has been slandering my family and you heard about me and my poor dear mother, and so you thought, since you owed me for sparing the old man’s life that you could help me? Don’t make me laugh! You disgust me! I can’t even bear to look at you!”
He struggled at Harry’s grasp. Harry didn’t seem wavered by his words, almost as if he were used to them. He was determined and stubborn though, and Draco knew he’d have to put up a fight to get away from him. He wouldn’t be Potter’s new charity cause, or declare Harry his hero for rescuing him from his tarnished name.
“Wait, it’s not about that,” Harry said, trying to convince him. It was true he had a hero complex, and he laid in bed every night thinking he could have done more; he could have helped Malfoy instead of scorning him. He knew what it was like to be the laughingstock among wizards, and he felt Malfoy didn’t deserve the criticism for what he did in respect to Dumbledore.
He felt he deserved much more understanding than people were giving to him.
He thought that Malfoy deserved at least one person to regard him with dignity.
“Oh, so you want to be my friend, Potter. Are you reconsidering my proposal after the first time we met?” He gave him stern eyes, almost full of spite and regret. “I already offered my friendship to you.”
“Draco,” he said his first name now. “I would have never been your friend then. You know that. And you wouldn’t have been mine either. We were too different.”
“And now suddenly we aren’t? Where do you get off, Harry?” Draco said, mimicking his use of the first name. Surprisingly, Harry smiled cheekily at him.
“That sounds so unnatural, you know,” Harry said, lightening the air. His voice was smooth and ringing with levity. Draco was jarred by it, and he suddenly felt relaxed. He sighed heavily, still encased in Harry’s arms. Looking trapped, Harry dropped his arms to his sides and continued to watch him.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry said, returning to the comfort of calling him by his last name. Somehow, he couldn’t refer to Draco any other way, not in a way that was comfortable to him. “Do you really want to be around Snape forever? I’m sorry, but it has to be dismal in his company.”
Draco grunted, and Harry caught a quick smile. “You have no idea.” He rolled his eyes and looked irritated. Harry grinned.
“You’re free, aren’t you? The vow has been fulfilled, hasn’t it? So why are you hanging around him? I think, Malfoy, you’re your own man now.”
Draco puffed up his chest just a bit and leveled with Harry’s good-natured gaze. Enemies regarded each other amiably in silence. Draco raised his chin. “I am a man now. I don’t need Snape.”
“I know,” Harry replied softly, still staring at him with a respectful consideration. They merely looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry sighed. “Listen, I meant what I said. If you want somewhere to go, just to talk…I have a flat down on Avalon Avenue, Number nine on the top floor.”
Draco furrowed his brow at him, and his lip curled. “I still haven’t agreed to anything, Potter. You may never see me again.”
“Perhaps,” Harry said, moving backward. Harry smirked at Draco as if he didn’t believe him. He looked at him still the same way as when he had met him in the bar, that he was glad to have found him. He turned away to the right and began walking down the street. He waved as Draco watched his back. “Later, Malfoy.” There was laughter in his voice, and Draco continued to stare at him. He let a sigh escape his lips and he shook his head. Potter was unbelievable.
----
Draco had returned to his flat that he shared with Snape that evening and looked at the opened suitcase on his bed. He didn’t know what possessed him, but as soon as he got home, he brushed past Snape without responding to his ‘hello,’ went straight to his room, grabbed his suitcase and flung it on the bed. It was almost systematic at first, as if Potter’s offer was lodged in his brain, fueling the urges deep within him.
He could leave. He could go. He could start anew.
And he didn’t have to go to Potter’s. He could just live on his words and ‘be a man’ that he was, alone.
He threw several clothes into his suitcase and snorted. He grabbed his family photo album and stacked his books tightly in his large trunk.
He didn’t have to see Potter, but it was a start. And he didn’t have to be friendly. Potter offered and the least he could do was reward him with a few insults, a few rusty retorts he’d been meaning to say for years.
He snapped his suitcase shut and locked the clasps on the trunk. He levitated them out the window, and he grabbed his broom and took off with suitcases in tow. He didn’t know if Snape saw him nor did he care.
He looked toward Diagon Alley and sniffed in the cold air. His pale eyes surveyed the clear skies.
Then, he made his way toward Avalon.
TBC...
Author’s Note:I don't really know where I'm going with this. I hope I'm not just dipping my toes in acid or anything and actually have an interesting plot here. We'll see, and hopefully I'll update this soon. Please tell your impressions.
Title: A Man beyond the Name
Genre: Angst/Drama
Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry
Rating: PG-13 (may change)
Status: WIP; part one
Warnings/Spoilers: Maybe some HBP later on; postVoldemort fic; slash most likely later on
Summary: Years later after Voldemort's defeat, Draco Malfoy is still living with Snape and his name is a disgrace. Harry comes to find him alone, scorned, and living without respect, but Harry knows that Draco
deserves better. Draco deserves dignity. Draco/Harry
Notes: Beta-work by
amara_anonAlternate Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2826449/1/
“Harry did not believe that Malfoy would have killed Dumbledore. He despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the Dark Arts, but now the tiniest bit of pity mingled with his dislike.”
~Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, American Edition, P. 640
A Man beyond the Name
Draco glared at his drink, and his lip curled in a sneer. He could feel hateful eyes on him from inside the bar.
For the first time in his family’s history, the Malfoy name was considered a joke. Why? Well, his once prominent father was now rotting in Azkaban. His poor mother was committed to St. Mungo’s, either because the Minister was really concerned for her poor mental health or he was just keeping an eye on her.
And there he was, Draco, the pride of his father’s pure bloodline, once a Death Eater in service of the Dark Lord. But he couldn’t even do that right, for he had been a coward and couldn’t even carry out his mission. To top it all off, he was now under the care of Professor Snape, and frankly, he was getting tired of him.
He picked up his glass and took a quick swig of fire whiskey. He felt somewhat better, now that he was out of Snape’s company and alone for a change. He didn’t know why he had to hang around Snape anymore; after five years since his departure from Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort was finally gone, thanks to Saint Potter.
Draco felt a nauseous twitch in his stomach when he thought of the boy. Since Voldemort was destroyed, he didn’t here much about Harry Potter anymore. In fact, having both Voldemort and Potter out of ear’s reach was comforting to him, if only he could get out of this cycle of boredom with Snape’s baby-sitting. Maybe then his life would be tolerable.
He made a face as a shadow darkened the gleam on his glass. He could feel someone behind him, and he turned right away to give this person a nasty retort.
Though, when he turned around, his eyes met with someone very familiar. ‘Speak of the devil.’
But Harry didn’t look surprised to see him. In fact, he looked relieved, as if he had been searching for him.
“What do you want, Potter?” Malfoy hissed, turning away and tracing a finger over the rim of his glass. His head started to feel fuzzy.
“I – I heard you were here, and I needed to find you,” Harry said, his voice stumbling yet calm.
Draco laughed. “Why do you need to find me, Potter? What would Saint Potter ever want with Draco Malfoy, the laughing stock of the Wizarding World? Have you come to bring me justice, St. Potter?”
“No,” Harry said simply, clenching his jaw. He furrowed his brow in anger, and seemed to be holding back his emotions. Draco wondered if Harry still hated him.
“I came because there’s something that’s been bothering me about you for some time. There’s something I’ve wanted to say but could never bring myself to say it because I’ve let my feelings get in the way.” Harry paused, and Draco seemed extremely interested. Then Harry blurted, “Thank you.”
Draco looked bewildered. “For what?”
“For not killing Dumbledore. Things happened so quickly back then I didn’t have a chance to think about it. After hearing you and your mom in the papers lately, I’ve had more time to think it over.” He brought his eyes up from the floor and stared him squarely in the face. “I – I realize that what you did was very brave.”
Draco was speechless at first. He watched as Harry fidgeted under his gaze, looking away and twisting his lip in exasperation as if it was hard for him to admit such a thing.
And though Draco believed Harry was sincere, it didn’t make him feel any better. Harry’s opinion did not change his mood – it did not change his life. He glared at him.
“I don’t need your thanks, Potter,” Draco said, turning away. He got up from his seat to leave, but Harry put a hand on his arm to stop him.
“Wait, there’s something else. I know that you’re still with Snape.”
“So, what of it? Like you care about that old ponce anyway,” Draco muttered, snatching his arm away from him.
“Malfoy, please, just hear me out,” Harry said, following him as he walked out of the bar into the cold autumn air. Draco automatically shivered, and sneered at the people giving him the usual disgusted looks.
“Go away, Potter.” Draco stopped but did not look at him. He scowled, and put his hands in his pockets. “Go back to your hero’s life.”
Then there was a bitter silence, and suddenly Draco was being shoved backward. Harry had pinned him up against the window of the bar. Green eyes looked at him stern and heavy, and Draco almost felt bewitched by them.
“Listen, you don’t have to live like this anymore. There is a way out, away from Snape,” Harry lashed at him. Draco looked surprised at first but then his glare returned.
“What is there left for me, Poster Boy of the Wizarding World? What do you think you can do for me?” Draco grinned at him, almost menacingly, just like he had so many times before in the old days. “I see you haven’t gotten over that hero complex yet, Potter. So you want to save me? You heard how the Daily Prophet has been slandering my family and you heard about me and my poor dear mother, and so you thought, since you owed me for sparing the old man’s life that you could help me? Don’t make me laugh! You disgust me! I can’t even bear to look at you!”
He struggled at Harry’s grasp. Harry didn’t seem wavered by his words, almost as if he were used to them. He was determined and stubborn though, and Draco knew he’d have to put up a fight to get away from him. He wouldn’t be Potter’s new charity cause, or declare Harry his hero for rescuing him from his tarnished name.
“Wait, it’s not about that,” Harry said, trying to convince him. It was true he had a hero complex, and he laid in bed every night thinking he could have done more; he could have helped Malfoy instead of scorning him. He knew what it was like to be the laughingstock among wizards, and he felt Malfoy didn’t deserve the criticism for what he did in respect to Dumbledore.
He felt he deserved much more understanding than people were giving to him.
He thought that Malfoy deserved at least one person to regard him with dignity.
“Oh, so you want to be my friend, Potter. Are you reconsidering my proposal after the first time we met?” He gave him stern eyes, almost full of spite and regret. “I already offered my friendship to you.”
“Draco,” he said his first name now. “I would have never been your friend then. You know that. And you wouldn’t have been mine either. We were too different.”
“And now suddenly we aren’t? Where do you get off, Harry?” Draco said, mimicking his use of the first name. Surprisingly, Harry smiled cheekily at him.
“That sounds so unnatural, you know,” Harry said, lightening the air. His voice was smooth and ringing with levity. Draco was jarred by it, and he suddenly felt relaxed. He sighed heavily, still encased in Harry’s arms. Looking trapped, Harry dropped his arms to his sides and continued to watch him.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry said, returning to the comfort of calling him by his last name. Somehow, he couldn’t refer to Draco any other way, not in a way that was comfortable to him. “Do you really want to be around Snape forever? I’m sorry, but it has to be dismal in his company.”
Draco grunted, and Harry caught a quick smile. “You have no idea.” He rolled his eyes and looked irritated. Harry grinned.
“You’re free, aren’t you? The vow has been fulfilled, hasn’t it? So why are you hanging around him? I think, Malfoy, you’re your own man now.”
Draco puffed up his chest just a bit and leveled with Harry’s good-natured gaze. Enemies regarded each other amiably in silence. Draco raised his chin. “I am a man now. I don’t need Snape.”
“I know,” Harry replied softly, still staring at him with a respectful consideration. They merely looked at each other for a moment, and then Harry sighed. “Listen, I meant what I said. If you want somewhere to go, just to talk…I have a flat down on Avalon Avenue, Number nine on the top floor.”
Draco furrowed his brow at him, and his lip curled. “I still haven’t agreed to anything, Potter. You may never see me again.”
“Perhaps,” Harry said, moving backward. Harry smirked at Draco as if he didn’t believe him. He looked at him still the same way as when he had met him in the bar, that he was glad to have found him. He turned away to the right and began walking down the street. He waved as Draco watched his back. “Later, Malfoy.” There was laughter in his voice, and Draco continued to stare at him. He let a sigh escape his lips and he shook his head. Potter was unbelievable.
----
Draco had returned to his flat that he shared with Snape that evening and looked at the opened suitcase on his bed. He didn’t know what possessed him, but as soon as he got home, he brushed past Snape without responding to his ‘hello,’ went straight to his room, grabbed his suitcase and flung it on the bed. It was almost systematic at first, as if Potter’s offer was lodged in his brain, fueling the urges deep within him.
He could leave. He could go. He could start anew.
And he didn’t have to go to Potter’s. He could just live on his words and ‘be a man’ that he was, alone.
He threw several clothes into his suitcase and snorted. He grabbed his family photo album and stacked his books tightly in his large trunk.
He didn’t have to see Potter, but it was a start. And he didn’t have to be friendly. Potter offered and the least he could do was reward him with a few insults, a few rusty retorts he’d been meaning to say for years.
He snapped his suitcase shut and locked the clasps on the trunk. He levitated them out the window, and he grabbed his broom and took off with suitcases in tow. He didn’t know if Snape saw him nor did he care.
He looked toward Diagon Alley and sniffed in the cold air. His pale eyes surveyed the clear skies.
Then, he made his way toward Avalon.
TBC...
Author’s Note:I don't really know where I'm going with this. I hope I'm not just dipping my toes in acid or anything and actually have an interesting plot here. We'll see, and hopefully I'll update this soon. Please tell your impressions.