Potter!

Blood traitor

"Well well well, if it isn't my blood traitor of a son," Lucius sneered towards his child. Draco wondered how a father could hate his son so much. They were the same blood after all. And there was a time when he wished he could be like him, but that was lost in the past now. He wanted nothing more than to rid the wizarding world of his vile parent.

He held his wand high, pointing it at him with adrenaline rushing through his veins. Just one flick of his wand and it would be done.

Harry's green eyes bore into him, but it wasn't him. Now he looked upon the wizard in the moonlight, he noticed the dark hair fading to red and the eyes changing colour. 

"I had it under control." Ron glared at him.

He turned his head back to see Harry lying on the ground behind him, still stunned. Fuck, he thought, if it wasn't for that stupid Polyjuice potion plan. Harry had been with him all along. The potion was wearing off everyone else, Harry was still lying there, his dark hair a mess and his glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose.

He turned back to his father, who smirked at him with the familiar Malfoy sneer that he hated more than anything, except perhaps Voldemort. His mind ran through all. the memories of his father. Fro when he beat him as a child, to his cowardly reactions to Voldemort's torture. He had never tried to help him when the task of murdering Dumbledore was set. He didn't say a word about it, only smiled and forced Draco into thanking their master for the honour. It was his mother and Snape who had helped him, and in turn, saved him from being thrown into Azkaban for murder. But this time there was no one to save him from murder. And though he knew it was bad, he had never wanted someone gone from his life more than in this moment, standing in front of his father.

But still, he hesitated, it was his father after all. 

"You bloody ruined the plans," Ron hissed in his direction, still pointing his wand at Malfoy. If only they had learned the first time to fill Draco in on the plans before carrying them out and expecting him to take the back seat. It was his father, and it was his blood. Typical Harry, thinking he knows best.

Draco shook his head as if to fight away his thoughts and maybe his doubts.

Lights flickered in front of him as spells were shot in every direction, the other Aurors having burst through, in an attempt to save what was left of the plan.

Draco shot one spell at his father, it was payback for all the times he had used it against him. 

His father lowered his wand and started to walk towards the Aurors. He dropped the wand, turned and got on his knees, waiting to be bound and taken into custody.

Ron stared at him, clearly realising his use of one of the unforgivable curses. They were unforgivable after all, but he knew Lucius would not give up without a fight, and perhaps more death. That was the last thing he wanted. If he couldn't pluck up enough courage to... kill him, he at least had enough to end the fight before anyone got hurt. So send me to Azkaban, he thought.

"Merlin" He heard Harry stir behind him as he stretched his limbs and lifted his head off the mossy ground

Draco sped to his side, "Harry... I'm so sorry."

He just laughed, gripping Draco's arm to help himself up and then collapsing onto his lap.

Draco brushed Harry's messy mop of hair away from his face as he gazed down at the boy who lived. Those green eyes could save him from any pain he was feeling, and he spent time admiring his features. The bags under his eyes had a grey tone, which he assumed was exhaustion or stress, but made Harry exceptionally more beautiful. It was those not-stereotypically attractive features that Draco always enjoyed the most. 

Lucius was screaming again now, his hands being bound behind his back and his wand being snapped in two right before his eyes. "He used an unforgivable on me," He sneered, shooting a glare at his son and the dark-haired boy lying comfortably in his lap, "That means he's coming with me to Azkaban.." 

The elder Malfoy seemed to bask in glory during the pain of tragedy in his son's life, and Draco wondered what he had done that was so bad. Parental love should be unconditional, though he supposed, there were many cases where that was not so. He felt a pang of guilt, it was still his father. But it was the father he had spent years longing for a genuine connection with, and wishing he would love him as a father should a son. Jealousy was the worst feeling. Seeing Ron's family love him unconditionally. Maybe that was why he tormented him through their early years. 

Ron stepped forward, pressing the tip of his wand to Lucius's nose, "That's if you even make it Azkaban."

He was whisked away, kicking and screaming like a child, and his words "Blood traitor! Blood traitor!" rang in Draco's ears for a few minutes afterwards.

"Don't worry Draco," Hermione came from behind him, "We wouldn't let you anywhere near Azkaban." 

He smiled and nodded as Harry propped himself up on his elbows, "Merlin, he's not leaving my side from now on Hermione." 

"There may be a trial though. You know, they have recently reinstated the ban on those curses with a penalty of Azkaban. But these are also extreme circumstances."

People were apparating back to the ministry and others were sealing the huge hole Draco had made.

A ministry official, the Draco didn't recognise, stepped towards them with a stern look. Oh crap, he thought. A tumultuous string of thoughts made his stomach convulse and his eyes a little blurry. 

"Mr Malfoy. Those curses are unforgivable for a reason."

Harry was off his lap in a split second, "Dawlish... if you're going to take him to Azkaban, you might as well take me too. You know I've used them in the past..."

"Now Mr Potter, you know the laws. There will be a short trial. But do not worry yourselves. It was to aid in catching a dangerous criminal. I'm sure they will see a smaller punishment for Mr Malfoy."

Dawlish finished by stating that he would receive an owl shortly and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. The typical Slytherin inside him hadn't thought about the repercussions, but finally being rid of his father.

"Come on," Harry took his hand and laced their fingers together. "Let's go home."

Draco wasn't entirely sure what Harry meant, where was home? Grimmauld place wasn't really his home. Home had never really been a place. It was the one thing he was sure of; Harry was his home.