𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

Ain't No Friend Of Mine (3/4)

Ain’t No Friend of Mine Part 3 of 4

As Potter and Draco worked more and more together on Draco Malfoy's missing persons case, people started to notice. The two biggest headlines in the Prophet these days were, "DRACO MALFOY, DEATH EATER AND MISSING", and "HERO BOY SIDEKICK DOG FIGHT CRIME, SAVE KITTEN". The part about the kitten was completely fabricated. Skeeter obviously needed to work on her material. Potter saved it; Draco was the one who'd chased it up the tree. It was Arabella Figg's fault, actually, for having so many cats.

Potter had been tracking the not-Dementor across the three counties Draco had already tracked it across weeks ago. Potter's trail was cold, but he kept putting pins in the map.

After Draco's friends left without recognizing him, Potter looked thoughtfully at the map.

Helpful, Draco barked.

"Shut it," Potter said. "Sarcasm won't exactly solve anything."

Draco barked again.

"I didn't exactly love him in school." Draco tilted his head in what he hoped conveyed a skeptic dog matter, and Potter conceded, "Okay, I didn't exactly like him either. Fine." Potter threw up his hands. "I never cared less, and sometimes I cared rather more—about seeing his arse beat and bent—"

Draco started barking. Too much information; too much information!

He didn't exactly want to hear all the horrible things Potter thought about him when he actually . . . knew it was him. Of course, if he ever got to be human again and Potter turned into the big, fat lazy toad thing his Animagus form probably was, Draco would delight in telling Potter all the horrible Potter-thoughts he'd ever thought. But the reverse was not on, and anyway it was awkward hearing Potter talking about doing things to Draco's arse, no matter how clinically sadistic, when Draco still thought about humping his leg from time to time.

"Anyway," Potter said, "that doesn't mean he deserves to be . . . I saved his life," Potter huffed. "He's supposed to get old and stupid and rich like his dad. And have long hair, and marry some pure-blood witch, and—and our kids are supposed to go to school together, and hate each other, and . . . it isn't supposed to be like this."

Stop thinking of the way it was supposed to be, Draco wanted to tell Potter often enough. Sometimes he thought that was Potter's whole problem.

All is never well.

"I know," Potter responded, as if he really could read Draco's frustrated expression. "It's just . . . this Dementor. It's not normal. It's something Voldemort . . . made."

Potter touched his scar, and Draco barked.

"This Dementor . . . and me," Potter said quietly.

No, me! Me me me! Draco was yipping, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if he exactly wanted Potter to find out who he was. When it came right down to it, it wasn't just not getting to work on the cases or getting treated differently by Potter that Draco feared.

When he turned human Potter was never, ever going to find out Draco had been his dog.

Draco would just—just never live that down.