Imagine the following. #Malfoid #Shorts After the Ball. After the DA. After Sixth Year. Sectumsempra, and Dumbledore’s death. After not seeing each other since. At the Manor, she helps them escape. Dobby dies. They end up at Shell Cottage. They will finally have a moment. And they need to have a talk. What do you think it will be like? ------------------------------------------------------- (Shell Cottage — After Dobby's Burial, Spring 1998) Harry was sitting on the low wall outside the cottage when she found him. He had washed his hands, but there was still earth beneath his nails. He was picking at it with his thumbnail. "Potter." He looked up. She had brushed the earth from her black suit, though pale traces remained at the knees. There was still dirt beneath her fingernails. Her pale blonde hair was plaited and pinned low at the back of her head, with several strands loose around her face. She stood very straight. "May I speak to you?" "Yeah." He shifted along the wall. Draco glanced at the space beside him but remained standing. For a moment, neither spoke. Beyond her, the grass bent in the wind coming off the sea. "I need to go back." His hand stopped. "Back where?" "Home. To my parents." Harry stared at her. "What?" "I can't stay here." Harry got to his feet. "Of course you can. Bill wouldn't have—" "It isn't Bill I'm worried about." Something in her voice made him stop. "Father has something that can find me. He keeps things at the Manor I was never allowed near. He has my blood, my hair..." She rubbed her thumb across a dirty fingernail. "You think he hasn't prepared contingencies in case I ever go missing?" Harry looked at her. "He gave me instructions, Harry. What to do if someone took me. What to do if they let me go." She paused. "We went through them every year." "He can't find you here." She looked at him. "This house is under the Fidelius Charm." He said. "Bill's the Secret Keeper. Unless he tells your father where it is, he can't find it." She looked at him for a moment, then glanced at the cottage. "Even if he's following me?" "He could be standing right outside and he wouldn't see it." Draco looked towards the path. "What about someone coming out?" Harry followed her gaze. The path was empty. "You think he'd stay here?" "Father thinks you've kidnapped me. He'll search wherever the trail stops. And once You-Know-Who hears there's something that can lead him to you..." She paused, looking directly at him. "He isn't going to just leave that to Father." "We need to tell Bill." "Yes." "He works with Dark artifacts. He might be able to stop it." "No, That's not—Harry. They might already be on their way." He looked towards the cottage again. "Then we'd better—" "Listen to me first. I've spoken to Hermi..." She looked down "Granger." Harry turned back. "She can change the memories so I remember being taken. Obliviate the parts where I helped you, and everything that's happened here. You can leave me somewhere away from here without my wand. Near a forest, or at the edge of some village. When they question me, all I'll remember is being taken." He stared at her. "No." She opened her mouth, then stopped at the look on his face. "No, wait—no! You've already asked her?" "I needed to know whether anyone here could do it." For a moment he could only hear the sea. At Dobby's grave, she had knelt beside him, working at the earth. They had scarcely spoken, but each time he looked up she had been there. He had wanted to talk to her. He was still furious with her, but there were things he desperately wanted to apologise for. Things he could barely bear to remember. He hadn't even known where to begin. He had thought there would be time. And she had already spoken to Hermione. She had already worked out how to leave. All the while he was picking dirt from his thumbs. He looked at the empty space on the wall where he was sitting before. "Harry—" "No." He paused for a moment, trying to think. "Bill might know how to stop your father tracking you. We could find a way to tell your mother you're safe. You've spoken to one person about one spell. Give someone else a chance before you decide alone what to do." "And what if he reads that message? They're still in that house, Harry. Even if we got it past him, Father wouldn't think I was safe with you while you're being hunted. He'd beg him to bring me back. To forgive me. He'll keep promising things he can't take back!" Harry turned away, pushing a hand through his hair. Bill was inside the cottage. Help was only a few steps away. If she would only listen. "Then we get you away from me!" He turned back. "If that's what it takes. But you don't have to go back to him. You keep telling me what your father will do. You haven't even let me find out what we can do!" "Mother doesn't know if I'm hurt. I want to see her. I want them to stop trying to rescue me, and if I go back, I can..." She paused taking a breath. "I can go home now as someone you kidnapped and released. If I stay away, they'll start wondering whether I chose to leave with you, and my parents will be there when they do." Harry looked at her. "And what if he doesn't believe you?" "They already think you've kidnapped me. They saw you take me. He only has to believe you let me go once you'd made sure I couldn't tell him anything." "And if he punishes you anyway?" Her eyes dropped. Harry waited. Her fingers trembled against the back of her other hand. She closed them, holding tight. Nothing followed. His stomach twisted. "That's it. You're not going back." She looked up. "I know it sounds bad. I'm not asking you to like it." "Like it?" "Harry—" "LIKE IT?" "Could you keep your voice—" "You're asking me to abandon you! Take away the one thing you could defend yourself with and walk away! How am I supposed to do that? You can't even promise he won't hurt you!" "I can't! But I can't stay here until he threatens my parents and I have to go out anyway. What would you do then? Just let me?" He opened his mouth. "We will all get killed, Harry! I can go back now without giving us away. I'm trying to keep my parents safe. And you. Can't you understand that?" He stared at her. He could see himself, under the cloak, watching her, lost and wandless near some woods, until they come for her. She would go back to that house, stand in front of Voldemort, and he was supposed to stay here. Safe. Harry stepped abruptly towards her. "No." She drew her head back at his sudden closeness, then lifted her chin. "Excuse me?" "I'm not letting you do this." She held his gaze without stepping back. "Since when do you get to make my choices for me?" Harry stared at her. "You think I want to make your choices for you?" "You've just told me you won't let me make this one." "Yes! Because you're being—" "Careful? Reasonable? Considerate?" "Impossible!" "Oh, good one!" She gave a short, angry laugh. "What am I supposed to say?" "Something other than 'no' would be a start." "Fine! Please don't go back to the evil house where the evil man may do evil things to you!" She pulled back slightly, her eyes hardening. "Don't you patronize me! Do you think this is easy for me?" "No!" "Do you think I would simply stay if you argued with me like I'm some kind of idiot?" "I think you could stay long enough to let someone try to help you!" He turned away, took two steps, then turned back. Draco was watching him with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "You always do this," he said. Her eyes narrowed. "Do what?" "Do whatever you've decided you're going to do, and everyone else can just deal with it!" For a moment she said nothing. "Do you have a point to make or do you just want to complain about me?" "I'm trying to find a point you'll actually listen to!" "Try putting it between the orders." Harry looked at her. "Do you practice being this difficult?" "No. It seems to come quite naturally around you." "Believe me, I know!" "Then you ought to be delighted I'm leaving!" "I'd be delighted if you stopped being difficult!" "You could always leave me alone." "Here?" he snapped. "Or do I have to find a forest first?" She gave a short, disbelieving laugh. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. "I just wanted to explain." "Me too. You could stop arguing with me long enough so I can try!" Her lips parted. He knew that look. He knew, before she spoke, that she had an answer. "You've followed me under the Invisibility Cloak to have arguments with me, Potter. I don't think I'm the problem." A laugh caught him unexpectedly. He pressed his lips together, furious with himself. She saw it. "Don't," he said. "I haven't done anything." "You're looking pleased with yourself." "Well, I'm not." She looked away, but it was too late. He had seen her pressing her lips as well. For a few seconds neither spoke. Then Draco drew a breath that caught oddly halfway through. Harry looked back. She was still standing with her chin raised. Another tear had slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away at once. He forgot what he had been about to say. "What?" she demanded. "Nothing." "You want to say something. It's all over your face." "No, I don't." "You were never as subtle as you thought." "Good thing I had the invisibility cloak then." "And I still caught you in fifth year. How embarrassing." "You kept looking for me, you creep. Made it rather difficult." She opened her mouth, then gave a short laugh and shook her head at him. Another tear fell. She brushed at it impatiently with the heel of her hand. Harry tried to keep his face straight. His eyes burned, and he looked down, rubbing at one. He had missed this. The thought came with such force that he could not look at her for a moment. He had missed having to think quickly enough to answer her, missed knowing when she was pleased with a remark even as she pretended to be offended. "You're making an awful face," she said. He let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "Thanks." "I thought someone should tell you." She wiped her cheek again. "Very considerate." "I do try." "Must be exhausting." "You have no idea." Her voice caught. She pressed a hand over her mouth, eyes shifting away from his as the tears came harder. She tried to breathe through her nose, to steady herself, but the breath broke too. Her shoulders began to shake. Harry took off his glasses. He meant to wipe his eyes before she looked back. Instead, he stood holding them while his face grew wet. Draco lowered her hand. "I..." The sobs took over her, and she looked down, no longer able to hold them back. "I... I missed you..." The last words broke. She covered her face, crying openly now. Harry bowed his head, shaking it. He tried to draw breath to answer her, but it came out unevenly, the tears kept coming. "I..." He pressed his lips together. For a moment he could only stand there, his shoulders shaking. "I missed you too." Neither spoke after that. Draco kept her face covered a moment longer. Harry wiped his cheeks, then let his hand fall, his glasses forgotten in the other. Slowly, she lowered her hands and looked up. He was already looking at her. Grey eyes met green once more. Harry's breath caught. For once, she let him see it, all the wanting she had tried to hide during the years. For him, there was nowhere left to hide his own. She looked at him as though he were still too far away and he held her gaze, aching to cross the little space between them. For a moment, there was only their breathing, and somewhere beyond the Shell Cottage, the waves breaking gently against the shore. ------------------------------------------------- What you won't Remember - Part 1. End.