𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 2008

The Translation Job

Author: catsintheattic
Title: The Translation Job
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: What if Harry used a different curse on Malfoy, back in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom? The Prince’s book was full of spells, and this time, Harry simply picked another spell. Again, he had no idea what it would do.
Warnings (if any): none
Total word count: 11,511

Outside the bathroom, Harry pressed his ear against the door. He couldn’t hear anything. He very quietly pushed the door open.

Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed.

“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 do 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 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. Malfoy’s hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another –

“No! No! Stop it!” squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. “Stop! STOP!”

There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy’s ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped over as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, “Cruci-“

“OMILIKA FIDII!” bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

Malfoy staggered from the force of the spell as it struck him squarely in the chest.

And … nothing happened.

Then Malfoy straightened up, panting slightly from the impact. “What was that, Potter? Resorting to useless spells now, are we?” He wiped his hair away from his face with the back of his hand, whilst keeping his wand trained on Harry at all the times. “For a moment there, I thought that you were going go gut me alive.” He sneered. “But then, that’s a move not noble enough for you, is it? All the better for me, if you haven’t got it in you.”

With the immediate tension of the battle between them having been broken, Harry scrambled to his feet, his wand arm still pointed at Malfoy. “Better for you, indeed. Not all of us can be cowards and traitors.” He gave a shrug and indicated over his shoulder towards the door. “I’m off, Malfoy, and you better not follow me. You hear that?”

Malfoy snorted. “I think you’ve got this the wrong way around. You’re the one who keeps stalking me, remember? Maybe no one’s let you in on the big secret yet, but I’m not part of your fan-club.”

Harry took his time and gave Malfoy the once-over. Dark circles under his eyes and a blotchy nose stood starkly out on his otherwise pale face. Malfoy looked like shit, in spite of his biting remarks.