Your Fortnightly Drarry Story (Back by Popular Demand)

6. Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

The following week, despite only just returning to work, he took a few days off to spend with Teddy. It was during this time that Harry found himself deliberating whether he really should have been an Auror just because everyone else decreed it as the most obvious career choice in the world after he'd defeated Voldemort.

On the Thursday, at 3am, he found himself sitting next to Malfoy in awkward silence as they watched another clearly abandoned warehouse on another of Robards's bad leads, even though Harry had presented a load of evidence about the Morency house in Bristol and the links to Rowle at the team meeting.

Harry found himself blurting out, 'do you ever regret your life choices?'

Malfoy looked at him through the darkness with a disapproving raised eyebrow. 'I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you've finally asked me, etiquette and diplomacy never were your strong suit, Potter. Your upbringing, I suppose. At least you've shown an interest after all this time, even if you do jump straight in with the hard-hitting questions after not talking to me for over a week.' Malfoy sighed heavily.

Harry blanched at the realisation of how his question had been interpreted but Malfoy continued before he had a chance to apologise and explain.

'Yes, is the straightforward answer.'

'I'm sorry,' Harry said, feeling very guilty about the question. 'I do realise it was shit for all of us, on both sides. You weren't exactly given much choice... I see that. And sorry I never asked before.'

'In reality, the answer is horribly complex and the question of choice is always open for debate,' Malfoy said as they both stared out of the window, purposely not looking at each other.

Harry gulped in disbelief. 'Are you saying you chose that course?'

Malfoy snorted softly. 'I wouldn't believe me either.'

'What do you mean?'

'A redemption arc is such a nice story. It's neat... too neat. People crave the simple option and the romantic solution. The truth is it's far more convoluted and fed by many reasons and occurrences. Some beyond my own power, some of my own making. And yes, I believed in what my father taught me. I loved my father, I still love my father. It was natural to follow in what he believed and not question it. Both of my parents were born into the philosophy of pureblood supremacy, there was no need to ever question it, considering the privilege our life gave us. So, I wanted it. I wanted to follow Voldemort because of those narrow-minded beliefs about blood superiority. I thought, by following Voldemort, I would have more privilege, I thought I would have power. And I thought of revenge...' Draco stared straight ahead, his features painfully angular and his white-blond hair nearly glowing in the darkness of their hideout.

'Revenge?' Harry questioned.

'Yes, well, in the cold light of day, it seems very petty now and a very irrational, spur-of-the-moment kind of decision but we did so find fault in each other and you always seemed to win...'

'You joined Voldemort because of me?' Harry was shocked.

Malfoy shrugged. 'Not just because of you, Potter. Like I said, it was complex and some of that reasoning was also very petty – just another tick in the box as to why I should follow that route. You were one of those ticks; it was actually something you could never be better at than me because you were so damned virtuous. You still beat me though, didn't you?'

'I wasn't in competition with you, Malfoy. Not then, especially not then. I never pitched myself purposely against you, apart from maybe on the Quidditch pitch. I suppose others did that for us.'

'Like I say, so bloody virtuous. I know that now, you idiot. But that's why you always won; because I could never see beyond my own ego whereas you were always just surviving. I was busy copying my father's ways but hating the pressures expected of me. I was fighting to be noticed. You were busy defending yourself against all sorts of shit and getting noticed for it, whether you wanted it or not. The rivalry was always on a bigger and more dramatic scale on my side –'